Master and Apprentice
by wafische
Summary: As events leading up to a horrendous prophecy unfold, Clockwork enlists the help of someone from the not too distant past to aid Danny in facing the threat.
1. Within his Tomb

This story is a follow-up to my earlier fanfiction, "Plasmius...The Origins of Vlad!" It is not, however, a sequel. The connection between the two stories comes from my fancharacter, Katou, who plays a major supporting role in both stories.

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A rare event besieged The Ghost Zone that night – a spectre storm. Howling and twisting, winds came from every corner of the compass and flew with great speed, knocking away doors, trees, and any loose object that was caught within them. Lightning shot across the horizons and thunder seemed to shake the entire realm. Rain and hail poured down with such savage fury that it seemed as the waters which had borne this storm could only have come from the seas of Hell.

Pariah's Keep, strong fortress though it was, was as subject to the raging tides as anything else in The Ghost Zone. The aged masonry cracked, creaked, and crumbled, and within the walls, paintings fell to the floor from the vibrations and torches shook unevenly within their braces.

The Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, left perched at the top of its podium, spun about like a top. Its balance was so off-kilter that the slightest tilt in any direction could have sent it crashing down to the floor below. But not a soul would have needed to worry about the return of Pariah Dark, The Ghost King, if the tomb had fallen. For wise had been the Ancients who had imprisoned the sage. A powerful spell had been placed upon the casket – making it impervious to the damage brought about by such falls. It was one of many elaborate precautions taken against the chance of the king ever returning to The Ghost Zone.

But the Ancients had not foreseen all possible events. They had not taken to mind self-serving profiteers who would release Pariah to obtain his treasured Crown of Fire. Such a thing had brought out The Ghost King not too long ago. Only through the heroism of the half-ghost, Danny Phantom, was Pariah denied the chance at a second reign of terror. He was re-sealed, this time with his Ring of Rage. The Crown, as well as Pariah's servant the Fright Knight, fell into the hands of the profiteer – another half-ghost, Vlad Plasmius.

This action of Plasmius had undone one of the precautions taken by the Ancients. For as the only ghost with the power to harness the Crown and the Ring, Pariah had become attached to the artefacts and the energy within them. When one strayed too far from him, the energy within the relic called back. Hence the Ancients' reason for keeping the Crown and the Ring within Pariah's Keep. The Ghost King had many powers unknown to even the Ancients, and they wished no chance of the call of his Crown or his Ring to stir him from within the sarcophagus.

Vlad's actions had done precisely that.

The Ghost King had not woken from the Forever Sleep. He could not break free from his prison. He could not even move within it, it was so tight around him. But he had consciousness of mind and spirit. Thought was available to him again. With this gift, he recalled the circumstances that had brought him back within the Sarcophagus. He remembered the writing he had read on the walls of his Keep that revealed all that the Ancients had done to prevent him from being at his full power should he ever be awaken. He knew why he could not slay the ghost-child easily.

And he formulated both plans for vengeance and plans to return.

---

"So tell me, my friend…what do you know about this crown?"

In the darkest, most secluded area inside his laboratory, Vlad Plasmius stood in the shadows with his ally, The Fright Knight. They stood around a green tractor beam, the lone source of light within the room. Within that beam levitated Vlad's most treasured spoil of war – Lord Pariah Dark's Crown of Fire.

"Lord Pariah rarely went about without the Crown or Ring," the Knight mused. "And we were strictly forbidden from inquiring about the relics. But we all knew that the true power was left within the Crown. The Ring was merely the key. But without the Ring, we will need to find a new way to unlock the power within."

"Yes," Vlad purred as he leaned forward, studying the crown intently. Since acquiring it, he had doused its seemingly eternal flames, letting it float in the tractor beam for him to observe and touch as he pleased.

How magnificent his prized jewel looked! Its power was pulsating within, just waiting to be unleashed. Any and all that was in existence could belong to him, could he but find the key to fit the magic lock.

The crown did look lovely in that soft green light. Its shine almost made it seem aglow.

It was aglow.

It had caught fire.

"What is this?" Vlad asked as he raised an eyebrow. He awaited reply, but none came. Looking up from the crown towards his companion, Vlad found the Knight terror-stricken, stepping back from the flames of the Crown and eyes wide with fear.

"No…" he said, his voice shaking. "How could it be?" the violet fires of his cloak began to consume the rest of him, and the Knight's dread grew as he became fire and dissipated into air.

"What is the meaning of this?" Vlad demanded, his voice now raised. He was speaking to no one – the Knight had left him alone, something he did not wish to be right now. The Crown's flame continued to burn, reaching out towards Plasmius in the shape of a bony hand. The old half-ghost drew back, sweeping his cloak out ahead of him as a shield, but the fire crept onward. As it reached the cape, the fabric did not burn, but was pulled in as though in the grip of a fist. Another arm of fire licked out from the Crown and touched a finger to Vlad's brow.

All at once, Vlad's entire spine seemed to erupt. Every nerve in his body snapped and bent and sent such shocks running through him that he collapsed to the floor in a heap. His spine writhed beneath his skin, as would a ravenous python.

He began to feel a second arm inside his own right arm.

Soon he felt another left leg.

And another head.

Without conscious thought, Plasmius lurched his head backwards, and the head of Vlad Masters emerged from the base of Plasmius's neck. In a mess of spectral smoke and ectoplasmic goo, Masters emerged in a foetal position on the floor, while Plasmius was lifted skyward by the hands reaching out from the Crown.

Numb from pain and shock, Plasmius hardly noticed himself dissolving away into a funnel of green mist. He failed to see that the Crown had been replaced by a vortex pulling him in. What he did see just before his head became mist was the body of Vlad Masters rapidly decay into nothing more than a skeleton.

---

The Realm of Aragon had transformed itself. The most backwards part of The Ghost Zone had, in a few short weeks, already made it past the Renaissance, and it was now going through the conflicting times of Enlightenment and Romanticism. Thanks to Danny Phantom and his friend Sam Manson, Prince Aragon's mad cling to olden times had finally been broken, and his sister, Dora, was now swiftly moving her world up through history.

One thing that had not been changed was Aragon Castle. The old stone palace stood as it had for centuries, looking over forests, lakes, and villages. From the topmost tower, Dora looked fondly down upon the realm. The waters and trees were calm and serene, and in the villages, ghosts were building their world into the future. The work was hard, but none were unhappy. Progress had borne fruit, and all were content with their new realm.

All were content, Dora observed glumly, but one.

In a tall oak near the edge of the moat, her brother Aragon sat with a brooding expression. He hugged his legs to his body and rocked back and shot out filthy looks in every direction. He had gone out and done that daily ever since the day when his realm left the Dark Ages and he had lost his human bride, his control over the place, and his amulet that allowed him to become a dragon. He would wake up, sit there and rock all day, come back, sleep, and begin again.

Every day when he went out and grumbled, Dora called down and tried to bring him into the future with the rest of the ghosts. Today was no exception.

"Really, brother, can't you just try to go along with the rest of us? At least make an attempt to make it into the _High_ Middle Ages."

"Never!" Aragon shouted as he leapt to his feet, suddenly defiant. "I _liked_ things the way they were! And besides, we had orders! We were supposed to maintain the Realm of Aragon's ways! Do you have any idea what awaits us now that the realm has turned into _this_?" he pointed towards the villages indignantly.

"Oh brother," Dora laughed. "Are you really still worried about _that_? He didn't even come here the last time he was free."

"Just you wait, sister! You will rue the day you brought my kingdom to this!"

"Very well," Dora sighed. "But if you won't move on like the rest of us, then I can't give you back your amulet!"

She took Aragon's pendant from her neck and looked it over. Identical to hers but for the place where it was set, it had been taken from her brother the day that Danny had defeated him, and Dora had kept it from him ever since. From the first she had told him that he could have the amulet back when he had at least made an attempt to adjust to new ways. It was a promise she intended to keep.

She eyed her brother's medallion intently. Something about it was different. A cloud of black had consumed the stone that held the draconian powers, leaving not even the slit of the dragon's eye. A curious red shape floated up out of the darkness.

It was a hook with half of another one set alongside it. Contained within the space between them was an eye.

Dora knew this symbol. She knew it all too well.

"No," she whispered, shocked. "It can't be…"

Her hands began to shake, and the amulet slipped through her fingers and fell down towards the moat

"The amulet!" Aragon cried. "It's mine!" he made a mad dash forward. In his haste he forgot about the presence of a moat, and fell face-first into the water. He emerged with a gasp at the base of the castle and found himself back in the water when the amulet hit his head and knocked him back down.

Soon he emerged, the amulet around his neck and a devilish smile on his face.

"Aragon, please!" Dora begged. "You don't have to go back! Please don't go!" She knew at once that her pleas were in vain when her brother looked up at her with malice in his eyes.

"Enjoy your freedom, _sister dear_!" Aragon sneered. "You'll soon pay! _You'll all pay_!"

A pair of black, leathery wings sprouted from Aragon's back as he rose up out of the moat. His neck became elongated, and scales took the place of clothing. Blue skin became black hide. Soon the transformation was complete, and the great dragon soared off into the clouds with a piercing roar.

Back on the tower of Castle Aragon, Dora fell to her knees, too much in shock to even think of following her brother.

This was not like last time. There was only one thing this could mean.

---

In his lair of gears, watches, and timepieces, Clockwork floated before the surface that would show him the present at will. For now, it remained nothing but a well-polished mirror, and the Master of Time turned the crown of the watch mounted on his staff, adjusting the time to be correct down to the second.

Clockwork was not quite himself. On a typical day he would move through the ages, being a child, a man, and an ancient all in the same day. Yet for days now he had been a hunched over old man and had remained that way. His breathing was heavy. The pendulum inside his body ticked at a slower rhythm. The red glow of his eyes had faded. But he paid his ills no mind. His last look into time had been very interesting, and it insured him two bothersome visitors.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" he coyly said. Without looking, he knew that the Observants had arrived.

"You have seen the signs?" one of the seer beings asked.

"Of course," Clockwork replied, finally turning to face his guests.

"Then you know how dire the situation is," the second Observant said. "The time has finally come. _Tá eagla orm_ is upon us!"

Clockwork stared flatly at the twin beings, and then turned back to his staff.

"_Tá eagla orm_ is upon us!" the first Observant cried, more dramatically. Clockwork paid him no mind.

"Why are you not moving to prevent this?" the twins yelled together.

"You Observants," Clockwork sighed and smiled. "Always with you it's the same routine. You have a terrible vision of the future and bring me in to try and prevent it. I advise you against meddling with time, but you send me in regardless. And what always happens?"

"We save the future. Now move!" the first Observant snapped.

"We? No." Clockwork said as he turned towards them again. "Are you at all familiar with Greek tragedy?"

"Of course!"

"Well?"

"Silly mortal fairy tales. Come to the point!"

"Very well…" Clockwork sighed. "Perhaps an example will help? You recall the little incident concerning Danny Phantom?"

"Of course…" the twins said, clearly unaware of where this was heading.

"You saw Danny growing into the most evil ghost on the planet," Clockwork continued. "You had me brought in to destroy him, and instead I tested him. My test ended with him getting the answers to a test – the test that he was supposed to cheat on, the event that triggered further events that turned him into an evil ghost."

"What does this have to do with anything?" the Observants demanded.

"It has everything to do with anything. For you see, I read – and learn from – the 'silly mortal fairy tales.' In Greek tragedy, when the gods gave men their fate, the men often tried to change their future. In doing so, they ended up helping to bring it upon himself."

"How does this apply to Danny Phantom?" one twin said. "The boy did not become evil! I fail to see the point to all of this!"

"The point," Clockwork said, "is that time is not carved in stone. Today's vision of the future is only one of many. Only time will reveal the path that the future will take. By refusing to wait, and trying to change Danny's future, you would have indirectly been the cause of it. But I cheated," he grinned. "I sent him into the future and let him see what could happen. When he made it back to his own time, the boy made his own decision. He would not become what he saw."

With a sweep of his arm Clockwork motioned towards the table where a lone Fenton Thermos sat. It shook on occasion, and had dents left in it from struggling from within. The thermos held the future Phantom, now existing outside of time.

"Danny chose his own future," the Master of Time resumed. "And he made his decision without ever asking to know his future or really thinking about how to prevent it. His primary motive when facing his evil self was to save his friends and family."

"Are you suggesting…are you suggesting we do nothing to stop _Tá eagla orm_?" the Observants spat, incredulous.

Clockwork knew how this would end before they spoke again.

"We can't accept that!" the first twin said.

"This is a far more important matter than Danny Phantom's future. Earth and the Ghost Zone hang in the balance! This may be the only time we would consider breaking the Oath!"

"If you won't take action, Clockwork, we can assure you that we will still work to stop this nightmare!"

"Very well," Clockwork sighed. "I'll step in. But for once, let me do things my way from the beginning."

"Your way requires too much time!" the Observants hailed. "Your time grows short!"

"I am aware," Clockwork grunted back, slightly affronted. "In that case, I'll just have to find someone to do things my way."

"Who could you possibly enlist? The boy?"

"'The boy' has a role to play in _Tá eagla orm_ anyway."

"But the part he plays is…"

" – And all who will be involved in the conflict, he has defeated before," Clockwork cut him off.

"But never at once! And you know the situation surrounding Pariah!"

"We know you have great faith in the boy, Clockwork," the other Observant said. "But you must admit, he is still just a child. And he isn't prepared to face this. And you don't have time to prepare him."

"Well then…" Clockwork smiled. "I'll just have to find someone who can." He pointed his staff at the great circular mirror. Reflections of the three ghosts gave way to a glowing image of a horrible, decrepit figure, with long and greasy hair and hideous scars on his face. He was covered in filth, his clothes were in rags, and he was chained to a wall.

Through all the grime, however, the Observants recognised the figure, a relic from a bygone age.

He was Katou – samurai, founding member of the lost Order of Afterlife, and former master of Vlad Masters.

_(He's a Phantom)  
(Danny Phantom)_

**_Young Danny Fenton, he was just fourteen  
When his parents built a very strange machine  
It was designed to view a world unseen..._**

_(He's gonna catch 'em all cuz he's Danny Phantom)  
_  
**_When it didn't quite work  
His folks, they just quit  
But then Danny took a look inside of it  
There was a great big flash  
Everything just changed  
His molecules got all rearranged!_**

_(Phantom, Phantom)_

**_When he first woke up  
He realized  
He had snow white hair  
And glowing green eyes  
He could walk through walls,  
Disappear, and fly!  
He was much more unique than the other guy! _**

It was then that he knew what he had to do  
He had to stop all the ghosts  
That were coming through  
He's here to fight  
For me and YOU!

_(He's gonna catch 'em all cuz he's Danny Phantom)  
(He's gonna catch 'em all cuz he's Danny Phantom)_

**_Gonna catch them all cuz he's_** _Danny Phantom_

**_Master and Apprentice_**

_Within his Tomb, Within his Keep,_

_Lord Pariah doth now sleep._

_But beware, Spirits of Ghost-Land Vast,_

_For this Time of Peace shall not last._

---

All ghosts knew that Walker's prison was the last place that anyone would wish to live out their sentence in. The warden took special care to make it the most unpleasant place for all inhabitants – whether they deserved such a harsh sentence or not. Small, crowded cells, poor food, long hours in labour, guards with no mercy…it was a torturous existence, and some began to view Walker's frequent execution sentences as a mercy.

But the majority of the jailbirds suffered little compared to those held below.

The high-security prisoners were kept in the dungeons far below the main gates. Secret passages led to the damp, slimy, stone caverns where the felons were kept, held down by ghostly incarnations of medieval torture devices. No light save for poorly kept torches made its way down into this area. Prisoners here were not given the striped uniforms of the others – they were left to rot in their own clothes. Their meals were the scraps left over from the lunch of the others, and their exercise came in the form of trying their best to resist the full pain of the daily attacks they had to endure from the guards. No one who had ever been sent down to the depths of Walker's prison had ever seen any sight other than the masonry of the walls ever again.

Katou the samurai had been locked up in this area of the prison for eight years. He was kept chained against the wall by his hands at all times, except when it was time for his beating. His sword was kept in the cell with him, hung mockingly from the ceiling far beyond his reach. The samurai's clothes had become splattered in mud and filth, were soaked with sweat, and were badly torn from all the abuse he had endured. His black hair and beard were long and greasy, and streaked all over with grey. His eyes, which had always had a tired look to them, now were faded, sickly, and haunted. He had become very pale and gaunt over his eight years of imprisonment. Across his right eye he had a scar, and his left eye was burned shut. Both wounds were grim reminders of his day of arrest, brought about when he faced his traitorous former apprentice, Vlad Masters. The last member of the Order of Afterlife had been reduced to a humiliated prisoner, condemned and confined. Failure to defeat Vlad, failure to control his emotions during that last battle, and failure to elude capture had left him without honour and completely defeated. Any ordinary prisoner would have completely given up everything after the first week, let alone eight years.

But Katou was far from an average prisoner.

He was one of the few who met each torture with his head held high. He made no shameful protests, but took the abuse and all its force with quiet nobility. After each blow he got to his feet before the guards could drag him up, and marched in front of them on the way back to his cell. Whenever taunts were thrown at him at how his weapon was in the prison with him and out of his reach, he took them all with a stoic face. And he offered comforting words to prisoners who had lost all hope.

Early on, Walker had tried to crush this spirit of defiance by doubling the amount of torture and shortening his already slim rations, but it had amounted to naught. Though physically broken and exhausted within his mind, Katou had proven the most resilient prisoner ever to be thrown into the dungeon. It seemed as though, even if he were destined never again to see the light of day, the samurai was determined to find some way to re-gain his honour – even if all he could do was face torture with the control a samurai was meant to posses.

The time neared 1:15 in the afternoon – the time of day reserved for his torture. Katou waited with patient dignity, showing no sign that he was soon going to be beaten. He stared straight ahead at the stone wall across from him, blinking away a trick of the eye that made him think that a blue patch of light had appeared in the middle of the room.

But the light remained where it was.

It began to grow and spin clockwise, and it started to take on the characteristics of the face of a clock. An old, robed figure with a ghostly tail, a long white beard, and a staff filled the light, and then came into full view as the spinning vortex faded. It had been a very long time, but after initial confusion, Katou recognised the form of Clockwork, Master of Time.

"Clockwork?" Katou's voice had weakened, but awe and confusion were recognisable within it.

"I don't have long," Clockwork whispered, holding a finger to his lips. "I'm afraid an old vision of the future is coming true, and it's not just any vision. _Tá eagla orm_ is about to take place."

"_Tá eagla orm_?" Katou gasped. Eight years of torture had not eroded his memory. He knew what those words meant. It was the darkest record in the Order's library. They had all hoped it would never come to pass.

"The Observants are meddling again. But for once, I've convinced them to let me do things my way from the beginning. And to do that, I need your help."

"My help?" Katou let out a half-laugh, half cough. "Surely you can find someone better. You must know the story of why I'm here."

"I do," Clockwork nodded. "But I need someone who knows the story of _Tá eagla orm_. I need someone with experience. And I need someone who can teach another."

"I haven't had the best teaching record…"

"A single failure out of hundreds of students is nothing to obsess over. In fact, it's unwise. And the boy I need trained is my ward, so I know from experience that you won't have another Plasmius on your hands."

"If he's your ward, why can't you…"

"I'll explain that," Clockwork interrupted, "when the two of you come together. I don't have the time to tell you about him, so I'll just give you all the knowledge you need."

The Master of Time aimed his staff at Katou's head, and a blue beam went out from the crown into Katou's mind. Within minutes, Katou understood everything. The boy in question was Danny Fenton, a 14-year old child who was also Danny Phantom, half ghost protector of his friends, family, and hometown of Amity Park. He had been making his own way, facing his enemies with only his powers and the help of his two best friends to rely on, and had managed to keep his loved ones safe. He had faced his share of close calls and temptations – and youth and its rash impulses had caused him to make mistakes – but he had been able to make it through even the darkest trials.

There was one aspect to his life, however, that made Katou cringe – the boy's mother was the girl that Vlad Plasmius had been in love with, and his father was the friend that Vlad had come to hate. Jealousy and hatred had sparked Vlad's moral collapse. Danny had faced Vlad many times and knew the connection between his arch-nemesis and his parents. Vlad had tried to woo Maddie and transform Danny into his son and apprentice. Danny wanted nothing to do with Vlad.

Katou had something to do with Vlad.

"This boy…Danny…" Katou shook his head. "I can't train him. His sworn enemy is my last apprentice. And I…I have to share some of the blame for why Vlad became what he is."

"Enough!" Clockwork barked, unusually stern. "I can't train the boy. I'll explain why later. You are the only one I can trust with this matter without pulling someone out of the past – and I refuse to do that. You have a choice. You can sit in this prison, brooding over what happened to Plasmius, or you can do as I ask and try and make right. What do you say?"

Katou looked away. He wasn't sure what to do. There had to be something special about this boy if Clockwork placed so much faith in him. _Tá eagla orm_ was no small matter either. He couldn't let his guilt interfere if Clockwork needed this boy trained to defend against the ancient prophecy.

But Vlad…

"I'm not in an ideal position to be on the move," Katou rattled the ghost-chains on his arms to prove his point.

Clockwork smiled. "Those chains are removed when they take you away. I trust you can find your way from there. And, since I know everything, I know what your decision is." He drew one of his special medallions from inside his cloak and tucked into Katou's shredded tunic. "Show the boy that medallion and say that I sent you. Head directly north until you find a portal shaped like the Plasmius Portal. Good luck." Clockwork spun his staff, re-forming the spinning light. He floated inside it, and both he and the vortex vanished.

Katou stared at the spot where the Master of Time had just been. He didn't doubt for a minute what he had been told. He knew a perfect way to escape. He had sometimes contemplated taking it, but had always felt he should endure his torture to atone for his failure. And he knew that if Clockwork deemed this matter so important that he would come to him in prison to tell him all this, he had to train this boy.

But he still felt doubt in his capability as a master.

Pushing doubt aside for now, he shut his eyes and entered into a meditative state. He had not been adequately fed for eight years, and his body was frail, but he knew how to draw energy from the spirit.

Minutes later, two guards came into the cell, ready to take the samurai to the torture chamber. One had a small device in his hand that short-circuited any spectral energy it came into contact with for three hours. Katou had heard from conversations held by the guards that this "Plasmius Maximus" was one of many devices that Vlad had supplied Walker with in exchange for certain prisoners.

One guard yanked Katou down from the chains and cuffed him while the other held the Plasmius Maximus to him like a sword. Katou waited patiently for the former to finish his work. He waited for them to throw his hands down and begin shoving him along.

Then, with a sudden jolt, he thrust his hands forward, catching the cuffs inside the Plasmius Maximus and freeing himself from their grasp.

He made a grab for the Plasmius Maximus and caught it, thrusting it into the nearest guard. Walker's man was soon on the floor in a heap. A quick ecto-blast, and Katou destroyed the device. He ducked out of the way of the second guard's nightstick, knocked him back with a sharp kick, and leapt towards his sword. The _katana_ was free in an instant, and a rush of flames covered the blade. Katou brought it down into the active guard's face, and the spirit vanished in a puff of smoke.

Katou floated up to retrieve his sword's scabbard and put it back into his belt. He turned his attention to the collapsed guard. Moving quickly, he removed his police gear and put it on himself, shoving his hair up into the helmet and hiding his beard and sword as best he could. He dashed out the door and up the stairs, lifting off the ground as he came into the upper levels of the prison. He had to squint, as his eyes weren't used to the bright lights of the surface, and he lost his way once or twice. But after several minutes, he managed to reach the outside wall. He floated up to the top of the prison gates. He prepared to head north.

The sirens sounded just before he started.

"Guards!" Walker barked over the loudspeakers. "We've got ourselves a high-security prison break. And if I don't have him back in his cell, my executions for the day are gonna include more than prisoners!"

Katou took off, but not before a guard noticed that he wasn't what he was dressed as. The samurai felt a sharp sting in his ribs as an ecto-blast flew by, but he did not stop to examine the wound. He needed to get a good distance away from Walker's prison. Special blocks surrounded the complex prevented certain powers from being used, and one of them was teleporation.

It may have been a few years, but Katou still remembered how to perform the technique. As soon as he was clear from the prison, his body became a swirl of green, and he vanished from the site of anyone who may have been behind him.

Miles away, at the mouth of his old cave, Katou reappeared. Gripping his side, he ran into his old home. He would continue on in a moment. He just needed to take care of a few things.

---

"Seriously, dude. If you need any help, we're here." Tucker said.

"I can handle it!" Danny grunted. With a lurch of his back and a more than slight moan, he threw the box of heavy equipment up onto its proper place on the shelf. His parents were out buying more equipment, and they had told Danny to clean and re-organise the lab. Unfortunately for his back, arms, neck, and knees, this involved moving a great deal of heavy equipment. He had been working for a solid hour and a half now, and it showed, and he was still only halfway done. Sam and Tucker, whom he was supposed to treat to a lunch at the Nasty Burger, were waiting on the steps.

"Danny, come on," Sam sighed, rolling her eyes. Danny could be so stubborn. "We're late, and you're exhausted. Just tell us what to do and we can get going!"

"Guys," Danny let out through gasps for breath. "I've defeated Plasmius on my own in Wisconsin and the Rockies, I've faced the Ghost King alone, I've fought my jerky older self by myself, and I deal with ghosts on a daily basis. I can do things myself, and if I can handle my worst enemies by myself, then I'm pretty sure I can do my chores by myself!" He held his head high as he bent down to lift up another heavy box. Unfortunately, he put too much force behind his lift, and the weight of the box coming up towards his chest knocked him off-balance. He stumbled back and fell to the floor, the box landing right on his chest.

"Although," he wheezed, "fighting ghosts is looking a lot easier right now."

The alarm above the Fenton Portal sounded, and blue spectral smoke drifted from Danny's mouth as a shadow stepped out from the swirling octagonal vortex. With a lurch Danny knocked the box off his chest and leapt to his feet. A flash of light, and two ghost-rings formed around his middle. Within seconds Danny Phantom stood, ecto-blasts charging up in his palms.

"Alright, pal," he growled. "What's your story?"

But Danny lowered his guard when he saw the ghost that stood before him. The spirit was a tired-looking old man, with a deep scar across his right eye and horrible burn marks around where his left eyes should have been. He was thin and gaunt, with his blue-trimmed black robes hanging loosely around his form. His short, messy black hair and goatee looked newly cut, and were streaked with grey patches. A belt held his robes, and tucked into the belt was a sheathed samurai sword.

"Whoa," Danny gasped. "Dude, you have to have seen better days."

"Indeed," the old ghost smiled warmly. "Our mutual friend sent me." Reaching down into his robes, he drew out a well-polished medallion, with black marble framed in gold. On the marble was inscribed the initials "CW" in topaz stone.

"Clockwork?" Danny, Sam and Tucker said together, awed.

"The very same. My name," the old spirit bowed, his hands clasped together, "is Katou."


	2. Ta Eagla Orm

"Katou?" Danny raised an eyebrow. The presence of Clockwork's medallion convinced him to change back into Danny Fenton, but his curiosity was aroused. Why would Clockwork send him a broken old man?

"That's right," Katou nodded, his sad smile becoming benign. "Thanks to Clockwork, I know your name to be Danny. The last name seems to change from Fenton to Phantom." Danny couldn't help but smile at that.

"And your two friends there," Katou nodded over to Sam and Tucker, "are Tucker and Samantha, who would rather go by 'Sam' if I'm not mistaken."

"Pleased to…meet you?" Tucker stammered out. Sam just stood there, her mouth slightly open. This was certainly shaping up to be a rather unusual ghost encounter.

"OK…" Danny said as he crossed his arms. "You've got my attention. So, your name's Katou, and you know who all of us are. Who are you and why did Clockwork send you to see me?"

"Very well," Katou sighed. With ghost-telekinesis, he summoned a lab chair and sat down. "Most obviously, I am a ghost. In life, I was a samurai…"

"Wait," Sam said, her eyes lighting up in excitement. She jumped off the steps and ran over to Katou. "You were actually a samurai? Did you know Miyamoto Musashi? Were you part of the Tokugawa shogunate? Did you…"

"Uh, Sam?" Danny interrupted. "We're kind of in the middle of something here."

"Oh, right." Sam said, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Very well…" Katou said with an awkward side-glance. "As I said, in life I was a samurai. In afterlife I was one of seven founding members of a governing body known as the Order of Afterlife. I doubt you have heard of us because…" he let out a mournful sigh, "because the Order ceased to exist eight years ago, and had been waning for some time before that."

Despite her excitement at meeting a true samurai, Sam could not help but notice something in Katou's eyes as he mentioned this lost Order. Sadness was most prominent, but something else came through. Was it…guilt? Hidden knowledge of this past?

"'Ceased to exist…'" Danny repeated. "You guys split up or something?"

"Myself aside, the Order was destroyed."

"Whoa," Danny's eyes grew wide, and he suddenly felt guilty for pressing matter. "Dude, I'm sorry."

"…It's in the past," Katou sighed after a pause – a pause that seemed a bit long to Sam.

"So, why'd Clockwork send you here?" Danny asked again.

"That is a more complicated matter." Katou said. "In truth, he didn't entirely explain it to me. He said he would send for us once we had met, and I hope he does so soon, as I don't consider myself much of a storyteller."

---

"…_as I don't consider myself much of a storyteller."_

In his private lair, Clockwork had watched in his mirror as Katou had escaped from Walker's prison, returned to his home to heal and cleanse himself, and met up with Danny.

Now was the time.

He raised his left hand and adjusted the crown on his second watch. Katou, Danny, and his two friends vanished from the mirror, which soon became just a reflective surface. In an instant, the four figures materialised behind Clockwork, who turned to face them with a smile.

"Katou, Danny…welcome."

"Hey!" Tucker said indignantly. "Aren't we good enough to get our names mentioned?" he pointed to himself and Sam, who rolled her eyes.

"Very well…" Clockwork sighed. "Sam, welcome. Tucker…don't interrupt." Tucker crossed his arms and skulked, but didn't press the matter.

"You called us here just in time," Katou bowed respectfully. "I was about to try and explain what this is all about."

"I'll begin in a moment. We're about to have another visitor." Clockwork pointed his staff up at the ceiling, and the gears and pendulums parted to reveal the black and green sky of The Ghost Zone. Soon, a bright blue dragon with green horns and fins and an amulet around its neck flew overhead and began descending towards the floor of the building.

Sam and Tucker gave slight smile at the sight of the beast, while Clockwork maintained a stoic expression. Danny and Katou grew tense.

"Dragon ghost!" Danny yelled, transforming into Danny Phantom.

"An Aragon!" Katou muttered, drawing his sword. Both prepared to strike.

"Time out!" Clockwork said, hitting the crown of his staff. Danny and Katou froze where they stood as Dora reverted back to her human form and landed in the Lair of Time.

"Hey, Dora," Sam said, giving a slight wave to the princess.

"Welcome, Dora," Clockwork smiled. He then turned his attention back to Katou and Danny. "Time in!" he hit his staff's crown again, and the two became unfrozen. Katou recovered and re-sheathed his blade; Danny fell on his face.

"You," Clockwork said as he pointed to Katou, "have never met Dora. You," he pulled Danny to his feet, "have not only met her, but recently helped save her realm from her brother." The Master of Time took Katou by the shoulder and led him aside.

"I suggest," he whispered in the samurai's ear, "that you work on his abilities at paying attention. And his abilities at math."

"Clockwork, please," Dora gasped, out of breath from flying. "I can see you're busy, but my brother and I…our amulets…Pariah's Mark appeared! I haven't seen that mark in at least eight hundred years! It didn't appear the last time he came out and…"

"Unfortunately, Dora," Clockwork sighed, "_Tá eagla orm_ is about to take place."

"Uh, guys…" Danny started.

Dora gasped, cutting Danny off. "_Tá eagla orm_?"

" Clockwork, who is this girl?" Katou asked.

"Guys…" Danny said again, annoyance now lining his voice.

"This, Katou," Clockwork said, ignoring Danny, "is…"

"Hold it!" Danny yelled. All eyes in the room turned to him.

"OK," he sighed. "First, this samurai shows up at my house with a medallion. Then, we all get pulled out of my parents' lab. Now people don't know each other, some mark from The Ghost King shows up, and there's this 'ta eagle or' thing. What's going on?"

"Rude, but to the point," Clockwork said wryly after a pause. "Very well. I will start from the very beginning. That should answer everyone's questions. But you may want to sit down. This will take time." Everybody but the Master of Time sat and settled on the floor of the building in an arc around Clockwork, listening intently.

"One thing you all know," Clockwork began, "is that, long ago, Pariah Dark ruled The Ghost Zone. He had control of the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage. And he had an heir. The Aragon family was one of several that enjoyed how things were under Pariah and sided with him. Prince Aragon was particularly devoted. His armies conquered in Pariah's name, and The Ghost King could take anything he wished from Aragon's assets. Eventually, Pariah named Aragon as successor to the throne. Dora was against supporting Pariah, but was oppressed into servitude.

"Then, as you all know, the Ancients banded together and defeated Pariah. They locked him within the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, placed in the heart of Pariah's Keep. The Skeleton Key, the only key in existence that could unlock the tomb, was sent off into the bowels of The Ghost Zone. But Pariah's Crown and Ring were kept within the Keep. For, as the only ghost who could control the relics, he developed a strange attachment to them, and if one was ever taken away from him, their power would call back."

He paused in his narrative, and turned to face Danny and his friends. "Why do you think he knew the Ring of Rage was hidden in Amity Park?" He let the trio exchange only a brief glance among them before resuming.

"At the end of Danny's last confrontation with Pariah, Vlad Plasmius stole the Crown of Fire and made a pact with the Fright Knight. He and the Knight both knew of this attachment Pariah had with the Crown, but they underestimated how powerful it was. Pariah has not been woken from the Forever Sleep, but he has conscious thought, he can communicate telepathically, and he was able to use the Crown to call the Knight back to him – and enlist Plasmius to his cause."

"Wait a minute," Danny interrupted. "Plasmius is working for The Ghost King?" he couldn't suppress a laugh. "Are you sure you've got the right Vlad?"

Sam gave a slight roll of her eyes as Danny had his fun, and as she did so, she caught sight of Katou. He seemed to regard the idea of Plasmius following another as absurd as Danny did – he seemed ready to laugh at the notion himself. Sam's face slipped into one of suspicion. There was no sign that she had noticed that Katou had ever heard of Vlad. Now that Sam thought about it, for someone trying to answer everyone's questions, Clockwork had avoided any explanation of who Plasmius was.

The Master of Time had resumed his story, however, so Sam turned her attention back to the tale.

"Pariah has…powerful methods of persuasion," Clockwork was saying.

"So what does this have to do with the eagles or something?" Tucker asked.

"When Pariah was first defeated," Clockwork said, "and the Ancients first sealed him away, they turned to me for advice. I received a vision of the future – not in my usual manner, but in a verse prophecy. _Tá eagla orm_. Pariah was to return once, and be defeated. He would return again, and with the aid of three ghosts, return to his full power. He would again rule over The Ghost Zone, and this time, conquer all of the Earth – only to be replaced by an even worse threat.

"Pariah has escaped once before, and has been defeated by Danny. He has two of his ghosts at his side. He is moving to obtain his full power again. All signs point to _Tá eagla orm_ moving from prophecy to reality."

Danny looked around the room. Clockwork, as always, seemed aloof, his expression betraying no sign of whatever thoughts he may have had about this prophecy. Katou and Dora had obviously heard of this prophecy before, and they didn't take it lightly. Dora's hands were clasped over her mouth, and her eyes were gleaming with dread. Katou's face was grim. Tucker and Sam's eyes were wide, both clearly shocked at what they had just heard.

Danny himself wasn't sure what to think. His fight against Pariah had been one of his most difficult. He had told Sam and Tucker that he would survive, and he had fought to keep that promise. But Pariah had certainly earned the fear that his name inspired among ghosts. Every blow The Ghost King landed, Danny felt the full force of it. Even with his father's Ecto-Skeleton, Danny had not really been able to win the fight. He had just managed to ensure that Pariah lost – and in the process, the suit and The Ghost King had both nearly done him in.

Now, this prophecy made it out that he had gotten off easy.

But some things did not add up.

"Wait," he said. "So, The Ghost King's trying to escape again, and he's supposed to have three ghosts working for him. All he's got so far are Plasmius and the Fright Knight…"

"The Fright Knight is not one of the ghosts referred to in the prophecy," Clockwork cut him off. "The two ghosts he has at his side are Plasmius and Aragon. The third…will be revealed."

Danny thought for a second that Clockwork was staring at him in an odd way, but after a blink, he was sure he had imagined it.

"Aragon's the second ghost?" Tucker said. "Didn't he destroy Dora's home last time? She was with all those other ghosts running away."

"I fled of my own accord," Dora took over. "You see, when the Ancients started to fight back against The Ghost King, they couldn't get to him immediately. They had to fight through all of his forces. By the time they were ready to strike, Pariah could see that they were a real threat. So he told my brother to take his kingdom and break away from Pariah's rule. That way, our lands wouldn't be taken away if Pariah was defeated. He told my brother to keep the Realm of Aragon as it was. If Pariah was defeated, he could start anew from our land when he returned. The first time he escaped, he never came…"

"He was preoccupied, focused on retrieving the Ring of Rage," Clockwork explained.

"…But I fled anyway," Dora finished. "This time, he called us with Pariah's Mark, and my brother flew off. I came to Clockwork for help."

"…But, Pariah was at full power when I fought him," Danny cut in. "He had the Crown and the Ring."

"The fact that he was wearing the relics does not mean he was at his full power," Clockwork answered. "You see, the Ancients took some precautions against Pariah returning. Along with taking the Ring off his person, leaving the power of the Crown without a key, they drew some of Pariah's own natural power out of his body. They distributed it among six of Pariah's belongings and scattered them throughout The Ghost Zone. Pariah and his three ghosts will first move to find all six artefacts. Then, when they have them, Pariah will be unlocked from the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, at his full power. According to _Tá eagla orm_, when he moves to conquer the Earth, he will come after Danny first."

All eyes came to rest on the ghost-boy, and Danny felt a chill run down his spine. He could find no other ways to argue Clockwork's words. This was really happening. This _Tá eagla orm_ seemed to be happening, and Danny found himself wishing it wasn't.

"So…what can we do?" he asked.

Clockwork sighed. "You and your fourteen-year old mind. While I take this matter seriously, I know that signs do not mean anything is certain. But this matter is dire enough to bear intervention. Danny, I am entrusting you with this matter."

"_Me_?" Danny yelled. _Had Clockwork completely lost his mind_?

The Master of Time smiled. "You have defeated Plasmius many times. You have defeated Aragon. You have even defeated Pariah. And I know from experience that I can count on you."

"Yeah, but…but…you're the Master of Time! Why can't you do it?"

A haunted look crossed Clockwork's face. "Have none of you noticed something different about me? I haven't changed age once the entire time you've been here."

Lights seemed to come to the eyes of his audience. Now that Clockwork had mentioned it, he _hadn't_ changed age.

"I am the Master of Time," Clockwork resumed. "As the Master of Time, I am bound to time's endless cycle of life, death, and rebirth. Since time began, I have died and been reborn six times. Soon, I will face my seventh death."

"But you're the Master of Time!" Tucker cut in. "If you die, wouldn't the fabric of the universe fall apart or something?"

"Time does not need me to continue on. I am not time incarnate. I'm just an omnipotent ghost with the power to alter and move through the time stream, is all," Clockwork answered, allowing himself a sly grin. "The fact that horrible events have occurred in history during the times between my deaths and rebirths is nothing but coincidence," he ignored the incredulous glares he was getting. "I hardly enjoy death. But it is one thing that I cannot avoid. By this time tomorrow, I will be dead, and I will cease to exist for two months. In death, I am truly gone. I cannot observe. I cannot intervene. I cannot think. I can't do anything. I need you to carry on in my place."

"Are you nuts?" Danny shouted. "I can't stop the end of the world…I can't! I mean…yeah, I beat all those guys, but I've never fought them all at once! And you just told us that Pariah wasn't at full power! All those guys have more experience than me, and…I can't!"

"True. You lack experience. In fact, you also lack technique, a sense of your surroundings, and often, common sense."

Hey!" Danny yelled, his face blushing slightly at the insult.

Clockwork ignored the comment. "That is why I sent Katou to you. He is to train you in my absence and help you face _Tá eagla orm_."

Danny looked over at Katou. The samurai was shifting uncomfortably, seeming uncomfortable with the notion of training Danny, and the ghost-boy noticed again how gaunt and scarred he was.

"Uh…" he started. "No offence, Katou, but you seem kind of…um…"

"Do not judge a book by its cover," Clockwork interrupted. "You don't look like much either."

"Hey!" Danny shouted again. "Why can't you have the Observants deal with this?"

Clockwork gave Danny a look, and it took only a few moments for everyone to understand why the snippy pair weren't the ones for the job.

"Clockwork," Katou finally spoke, "are you sure about this?"

"I am very sure."

"What are the lines to _Tá eagla orm_ anyway?" Sam asked, crossing her arms. "You said it was a verse prophecy."

"The ruins of the Order of Afterlife's sanctuary still exist," Clockwork said. "Katou can take you there. He knows where the records are kept."

Sam raised an eyebrow. Something strange was going on here. "Why can't you just tell us what the…"

"While you train Danny, Katou," Clockwork said, cutting Sam off, "you can also help to minimise the threat he will face. Pariah's artefacts can be found, with a little work. I repeat – there are six relics: a sceptre, a chest of gold, a balance, a throne, a pendant, and a bow. Plasmius has the throne. I have the pendant."

The aged ghost reached into his violet cloak and drew out the relic. It was a black marble stone, with Pariah's Mark set in ruby on both sides. A slender gold chain held the pendant. With a light toss from Clockwork's hand, it landed in Katou's lap.

"I'm afraid I can't help any more than that. The Observants are letting me handle this my way for once, and my way involves minimal interference. I have probably done too much as it is."

Clockwork suddenly lurched forward, clutching at where a heart would be on another being. His staff fell to the ground.

"You OK, Clockwork?" Danny asked, rising to his feet.

"I have less than twenty-four hours to live, Danny," Clockwork gasped. "I think it's time we finished this meeting. Katou, you know how to find the balance and the sceptre. Vlad knows how to find the bow and the chest – and the balance, too. It would be wise to move quickly to get what you can of the relics, hide them away, and think of a way to steal whatever artefacts Pariah has gained. I would start training Danny right away."

"Clockwork, are you sure about this?" Danny asked. He knew he wasn't. "I mean…I'm fourteen. And, by the way, the jokes about me being a teenager are really getting old."

"True," Clockwork smiled. "You are a fourteen-year old child. And I have a great deal of fun at your expense. But I have faith in you. Ever since the little incident about your future, the Observants have labelled you as my responsibility. I trust you, Danny." He placed a fatherly hand on the half-ghost's shoulder. "And I trust Katou. I expect you to do the same."

"Clockwork, I'm flattered," Katou said as he stood up. "But I'm still not sure about…"

"I am," Clockwork said. He wasn't harsh, but his tone conveyed the message: the subject was closed.

"Dora, you may stay here until my seventh death comes. The rest of you…"

Clockwork adjusted the crown of the second watch on his right hand, and Danny, his friends, and Katou all vanished.


	3. Sasaki's School of Koryu

The whirl of blue faded away, and Danny found himself once again in the basement of his own house. Sam and Tucker stood beside him, and Katou was directly in front of him. Seeing them all back safe and sound gave Danny some comfort, but his brief solace was overwhelmed by the weight of what Clockwork had just said.

Why him?

Why did Clockwork decide to entrust him with preventing the end of the world?

He couldn't think of a single thing he had done to earn such trust. Earlier today, he might have said that stopping Pariah was a feat, but now he knew the truth. He had faced a Ghost King who was missing a large portion of energy. And, now that he thought about it, he had been fighting a weakened Plasmius every time that he had defeated Vlad. Be it a Spectre Deflector or a Vlad still fatigued from illness, he had never once faced Vlad at his full potential and won – at least, not all alone. And his battle with Aragon had nearly ended the "slow and painful way" until Dora had intervened. His Halloween duel with the Fright Knight would have been a disaster too, had Sam not found a way to defeat the knight.

And there was still the matter of this third ghost whom Pariah would enlist.

_Why him_?

"So…" Tucker coughed, breaking the silence. "The Ghost King's coming back, Plasmius is working for him, Aragon's his prince, they've got more leads on those old artefacts than we do, those things will give Pariah all his power back, and then he's gonna come and exact his unholy revenge on us. We're dead, aren't we?"

"Big help, Tuck," Danny grunted. He bent down to hold his knees in a vain effort to keep them from shaking as he continued to think the matter over. His legs soon buckled, and he fell to his knees.

They _were_ dead. And it would be his fault.

"Danny, don't worry," Sam said as she walked over to put a hand on his shoulder. "We've got the pendant, and we've got someone who knows about all this. Besides, you've fought Pariah before."

"Sam, Pariah was weaker the last time I fought him!"

"Well, if we get all the artefacts, then he'll be the same as last time."

"I needed the Ecto-Skeleton last time, and it's gone now! Besides, it almost killed me! And Plasmius was weak the last time I really beat him by myself, and every other time, I had help from you guys, and…"

"Weren't you telling us before Katou showed up how you handled that all on your own?" Sam said coyly, smiling.

Danny grinned sadly, his stomach twisting into another not. He did say that, didn't he?

"We've got your back here too, dude," Tucker chimed in.

Danny allowed himself a small breath of relief. He was still terrified and unsure that anything could be done, but having his friends by his side was no small comfort.

"And besides," Tucker went on, "we've got a cool samurai master ghost to get you ready to kick The Ghost King's butt!"

"About that," Katou sighed, sitting down again. "Danny, Clockwork showed me all I need to know about you, and included in his vision was the knowledge that you are a boy in school who also has chores around the house. To truly benefit from training, you will need to work at it, and that will require time that will be taken away from other matters."

Danny groaned. He had forgotten all about that. How was he going to explain the homework he was sure to miss to Lancer? What excuse could he give his parents for his long hours away from home? He struggled for alibis for typical ghost matters.

This was all happening so fast. Couldn't things just slow down, just a little? He needed time to think.

"I was thinking that we could produce a cover for your training to reduce the trouble you may find yourself in," Katou finished.

"Like what?" Danny asked. His three companions sat down, and each began silently contemplating their options.

After a few moments, Sam snapped her fingers.

"I've got it."

---

"I already checked it out, Mom and Dad. You won't have to pay for a long time, it's in a good part of town, the guy we met was really friendly, and Jazz went over everything…"

It was the morning after Katou had arrived, with school less than an hour away. Danny was sitting at the kitchen table with his parents and Jazz. He had just presented them with a false advertisement that Sam and Tucker had thrown together last night. The paper promoted "The Sasaki School of Koryu."

"School of Koryu, huh?" Jack pondered. "What, that some kind of art class or something?"

"Dad," Jazz groaned. "Koryu is…"

"A Japanese word used in association with all ancient martial arts common in feudal Japan before the event of the Meji Restoration," Maddie finished in a simple tone. "I worked with them a bit before I got my first degree black belt. Though I don't know why you'd want to learn about these when you could learn _gendai budo_ or the Chinese martial arts. And you don't need to sign up for a class, sweetie – I'd be more than happy to teach you." She rose to her feet and did a brief but impressive demonstration of her martial arts expertise – though it ended up costing her the chair she had been sitting on, as she demolished it with a sharp kick.

Danny gulped at the scene. "That would be great, Mom – and by great, I mean more dangerous than a stampede of wildebeest – but I couldn't ask you to put this hobby of mine above ghost hunting. Not with that Phantom kid on the loose, anyway." He and Jazz shared a sly wink that neither parent noticed.

"I suppose you're right," Maddie sighed. She looked the ad over again. "You're sure you checked it out?"

"Mom," Jazz interrupted. "I went with him, I checked everything out. It's fine."

Danny smiled. He had to admit – ever since he had found out that Jazz knew his secret, she had been a big help. And she was getting better at not meddling so much; when he had filled her in on Katou, _Tá eagla orm_, and their cover plan, she didn't try to talk him out of it or change the plan or anything. She just agreed to help.

"Well," Maddie smiled, "I suppose it's alright."

"This is perfect for you, Danny!" Jack said. "It'll build up your self-esteem, help your muscles, and get you ready to fight ghosts!"

"I know, Dad," Danny said, excitement and dread both lining his voice. "I know."

---

"…And I want it finished no later than Monday, with all requirements fulfilled," Lancer finished giving out that night's homework just as the bell rang. His seventh hour English class – his last course for the day –filed out of the room, leaving the out of shape teacher to his grading. Lancer soon became absorbed in this task, and hardly noticed when Danny and a stranger walked into the room.

"Yes, Danny, what is it?" he asked, not looking up.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Lancer," Danny said. "But I have this after-school class now, and it goes pretty late, so…"

"School comes first, Danny," Lancer said simply, still not looking up from his work.

"I know, but it goes pretty late, and I might not have time for homework, so I was just wondering if I could have my schedule changed to have a study hall."

"What class are you taking after school, Mr. Fenton?" Lancer said as he finally looked up, raising an eyebrow.

"That is why I'm here, Mr. Lancer," the stranger finally spoke. He was a gaunt, pale man, with messy black hair streaked with grey, a scarred face, and a black suit with a gold-topped cane.

"And who might you be?" Lancer asked.

"I am owner and master of Sasaki's School of Koryu," the stranger said as he bowed. He produced a small pamphlet and set it down on Lancer's desk. The teacher looked it over.

"Martial arts…" he murmured. "I suppose you could do worse with a hobby. But why does it go so late?"

"Koryu is the Japanese term for the ancient martial arts," the stranger said. "For me, that means that moral and ethical behaviour is taught in addition to combat skills."

"Really?" Lancer said. He seemed to have lightened up considerably. "Well then, Mr. Fenton, I think I can find a place for you in third period."

---

Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Katou stood just outside one of the oldest townhouses in Amity Park. Once an Italian restaurant, it had closed up during the 1940s and had been abandoned for years. Had it not been for its location in a neighbourhood that was a historic landmark, it would have been demolished long ago. A Japanese family who had arranged to use it for an apartment had treated it to some restorations, but they had long since moved away. Now, the building was cleaned, refurbished, and the window read "Sasaki's School for Koryu."

Sam stood with a satisfied smile on her face. Katou, still in his disguise, looked mildly impressed. Danny and Tucker's mouths were hanging open.

"Sam, how'd you do all this?" Danny finally asked.

"Hey, my parents' money is good for something," she shrugged.

"Impressive," Katou mused. "Is the foundation arranged as I had asked?"

"Taken care of."

"Oh, great," Tucker said, rolling his eyes. "She probably worked the basement out so the samurai will tell her all about old Japan!" He turned to Danny. "You're never gonna get your training done."

"Not to worry, Tucker," Katou laughed. "Shall we go inside?"

---

The interior of the building had been lovingly decorated. Soft, earthy colours ordained the walls, and bamboo shafts were placed on all the edges of the walls. Two small Japanese cherry trees grew in pots set down on the floor, which had been covered in soft grass. Japanese writing hung on rice paper on the inside of the door, and Katou recognised it as the seven virtues attributed to _bushido_.

He smiled. "It's perfect."

"Yeah, Sam," Tucker said. "You really went all out on this."

"So, what's the deal with the basement?" Danny asked.

"Right this way," Sam said. They crossed the length of the room to a door on the far left. Behind it was a spiral staircase leading down to a very long room. In fact, it seemed larger than the room above. There was but one light hanging from the ceiling, and the floor was nothing but dirt.

Katou reached inside his jacket and drew out a small bottle. He motioned for everyone to stand back, and threw it down on the middle of the floor. A flash of light and a swirl of green flew by, and a long table filled with vases, bottles, and lamps filled the room.

"And that's that," he said simply.

"So, when do I start my training?" Danny asked, somewhat hesitantly.

Katou hesitated on his answer.

"Tomorrow," he answered, a bit stiffly. "Come by after school and we will begin."

"…Maybe we should go see Clockwork again," Danny stammered.

"He said that he would die sometime today," Katou said on an exhale. "His lair is too far away for us to arrive there in time."

Danny sighed. "I was afraid of that."

"Well, you kids had better be getting home," Katou said in a much lighter tone. "I will have everything ready for tomorrow."

"Later, dude," Tucker just let his words out before he was out of the room. Danny silently followed.

Sam stayed where she was.

"You coming, Sam?" Danny asked.

"I'll be up in a minute," Sam said.

She waited until Danny had left, then turned towards Katou as the samurai looked over his table. She didn't fear that Katou would turn traitor or become a threat. Clockwork had sent him, and that was enough insurance for her of the samurai's character. But there was something about him that didn't seem right. The story he had told about the Order felt incomplete. He hadn't been curious as to who Plasmius was, even though Clockwork had never explained about him.

And he just seemed too uncomfortable about the whole idea of training Danny.

Katou briefly looked up from his work, and caught sight of Sam standing around. "Do need something, Sam?" he asked.

"I just had a question," Sam said. "How come you had us use the name 'Sasaki' instead of just your own name?"

"The Order and Walker often clashed in olden times," Katou said as he continued to work. "I ended up in his prison for eight years before Clockwork came to me. I was the first prisoner to escape from his lower levels in…I believe I was the first to escape from there at all. He's likely searching for me. On the off-chance he comes here, now he won't hear about anyone named 'Katou.'"

"Good plan. Oh, and weren't you curious about who Vlad Plasmius was yesterday? Clockwork never explained who he was."

Katou stopped where he stood. He had not turned to face Sam, and was now grateful that he wasn't, for his face would surely have betrayed at least something of his past.

He knew Clockwork was right. It was a grave mistake to obsess over what had become of Vlad. With _Tá eagla orm_ on the horizon and he and Danny paired together in trying to prevent it, keeping secrets wasn't a clever thing to be doing. And with both sides after the artefacts, it wouldn't be long before Vlad discovered that Katou was Danny's new master. It was far better for Katou to inform Danny of the past than for Vlad to twist it to his advantage.

He owed it to the boy and his friends to tell them the truth.

"…When Clockwork gave me the information I needed about Danny, Plasmius was included," he stammered out. He knew that wouldn't be convincing. He had waited too long and fumbled in his delivery of the lie.

Sam did not buy that explanation. She eyed the back of the samurai's head, her fingers drumming along her crossed arms. She intended to get to the bottom of this. But, for now, she felt it best not to press the matter.

"OK," she shrugged. "See you tomorrow."

"Good evening," Katou sighed, still not turning around. He listened as Sam's footsteps faded away, and he let himself fall off to the side, leaning against the wall.

He knew it was wrong to keep silent. It was foolish. It was just stupid. But if he talked of his ties to Vlad, then he feared that Danny would reject any training Katou could give.

"I know what I'm doing," he said aloud to himself, standing upright.

If only he could be sure he wasn't lying…


	4. Three Dark Souls

Time stood still in Clockwork's lair. From the largest gear on the outside of his abode to the smallest hand of his last wristwatch, all stood still. Every last tick and tock was silenced. The lone sign of movement from any timepiece was the pendulum within the Master of Time. Slowly it moved, taking several seconds to come way and more seconds to go back.

Clockwork's eyes were almost a true grey, their scarlet glow seeming to have never existed. The lines in his aged face were drawn, and his beard was white as snow. His breath had been reduced to a low rasp, and each breath he took seemed to bring him pain. He leaned on his staff, unable to float without collapsing in discomfort.

Dora watched the Master of Time with mournful eyes. While she didn't feel she could call Clockwork a friend, she did place her trust to him, and had slipped away many times in the past to seek his council. He had always been a kind and helpful soul to her, and Dora hated to see him in such pain.

Clockwork fell into a coughing fit that nearly sent him falling over, and Dora made a move forward to help him straighten himself out.

"Dora," Clockwork spat out between coughs. "My seventh death draws near, as does a threat. You need to leave."

"I can't just leave you here like this!" Dora said. "If there's a threat coming, how do you expect to deal with it?"

"I assure you, the threat will not harm me. They won't have the time," Clockwork chuckled at the grim piece of humour.

"But…Clockwork…"

"Don't worry, Dora. I can't say that I'll be fine, but I can say that I will return. I always have." He smiled at her, and she gave a sad smile back.

"Go." The Master of Time pointed skyward, and the ceiling parted. Dora lingered for a moment, but she finally brought herself to become a dragon and soar away. Clockwork did not watch her depart. He was bent over, gripping at his chest as he continued to cough.

"_Dying is bad enough,"_ he thought. _"But why are the last hours the worst?"_

He found himself grateful for the distraction appearing before him. Violet flames had appeared on the floor, and they danced upward into definite shapes. One form resembled Satan; the other was clothed in armour. The flames quickly solidified, becoming spirits. Both were cloaked, one in robes of purple flame, the other in red and white cloth. Both had Pariah's Mark as a decoration on their belts. Clockwork knew both figures well, and he knew that they knew of him.

"Ah," Vlad Plasmius said with a dramatic air. "Clockwork, Master of Time."

"Vlad Plasmius," Clockwork managed to reply. "Lonely, deluded, bitter man who let jealousy and hate get the better of him. Or, in Danny's words, a seriously crazed-up fruit-loop." Clockwork allowed himself a slight grin as he saw Plasmius flinch at the insult.

"We have need of your powers," the Fright Knight declared as he stepped forward, pointing towards the Master of Time with his sword. "By now, you must have seen Lord Pariah's return."

"I saw him enslave you two," Clockwork said wryly. "He is still locked in his sarcophagus."

"Lord Pariah returns," the Knight repeated. "And, when he had us investigate his Keep, we found that the hieroglyphics of his lair contained a verse prophecy, given by you to the Ancients."

"_Tá eagla orm_," Plasmius purred.

"This prophecy mentioned a force that would rise up and take Lord Pariah's power once it had been restored to him," the Knight said. "Lord Pariah demands to know who will overthrow him!"

"And," Plasmius added, "Walker tells me that a certain samurai has escaped from his prison. I would like to know where he is."

"You should read the myths Oedipus and Perseus," Clockwork mused. "You might think twice about your questions."

"Oh, come now, Clockwork," Vlad slyly cooed. "With my resources and Pariah's power, do you really think we wouldn't know about your condition? You're about to die! Do you really want to waste precious time and energy trying to resist?"

"For the last time," the Knight took over, "tell us what we must know!"

"True," Clockwork smiled grimly. "My death draws near. But it is nearer than you think."

The Master of Time looked down towards his chest. His internal pendulum made a great swing upward, and seemed to suspend itself up on high for a moment. Then, as if lightly tapped by an invisible hand, it swept downward. The descent lasted mere seconds, but a small eternity seemed to pass.

The pendulum finally halted in a stiff motion, hanging straight down. It did not climb again.

"Time out," Clockwork sighed in a last, mournful breath.

The Time Lord's eyes became hollow black slits. The hair of his beard fell away in one felt swoop. The blue skin of his face cracked and chipped and fell away, showing the green skull underneath. Soon this skull was all that remained of Clockwork's face, and it fell from his cloak and rolled along the floor. The ghost's robes collapsed in a heap on the floor, as if they had just been tossed there. Clockwork's staff fell on top of them. And, as the skull rolled back and came to rest by the pile of robes, the Lair of Time became black as night.

The darkness was set back by a red orb Plasmius formed in his hands as he bent down to study the remnants of the Time Lord. He lifted up the skull and looked it over carefully. He knew that there was no sense losing sleep over the death. Clockwork's death marked the end of his existence for two months. There was no way to bring him back. But the timing of his death struck Plasmius as odd. Clockwork seemed aware that they were coming, and that he would die during their visit.

"Strange…" he mused.

"Lord Pariah will not be happy when he hears this," the Fright Knight gulped. Plasmius began to sweat once his friend's words had sunk in. The Ghost King certainly would not be happy about this. All the text that he had read on the despot painted the image of a character who could deliver severe castigation to any minion who did not perform a task. Plasmius was on shaky ground as it was. And a matter such as retrieving the name of the one who was to overthrow Pariah was no small matter.

Perhaps there was reason to lose sleep over Clockwork's death.

"There must be some other way to find out about that '_Tá eagla orm_' nonsense," he growled. "Where is the lair of those 'Observants' I've heard about? They can see the future as well as Clockwork."

"In the entire history of The Ghost Zone, they have only been seen by the Ancients and by…"

"…The Order of Afterlife," Vlad grunted, frowning at the memory of that foolish society he had long ago brought to ruin. "Yes, I know. And they all needed Clockwork to call them. But the Observants can't just remain invisible until they want to talk with Clockwork. There has to be a way to find them." But as Plasmius racked the depths of his brain, he could not devise any solution. Less was known about the Observants than there was about Clockwork; and it had taken years for Plasmius to come across any tangible knowledge about the latter.

For once, he was at a loss as to what his next move should be.

"We could…"

"Run" was the word he wished to close with, but the thought left his mind as quickly as it had come, as Plasmius beheld the mark that now served as his belt buckle.

"Perhaps we can provide Lord Pariah with something to make up for the lost information," the Knight offered.

Plasmius scoffed at the idea. What could compensate for knowing the identity of one's eventual conqueror?

Both figures turned their heads at a strange rattling sound. Plasmius expanded the orb in his hand to let its red light shine on a simple table off by a doorway. On it rested a sight that took Plasmius by surprise: a Fenton Thermos. It was dirtied and dented, as though whatever it contained was able to move about within its confines and had done so often in an attempt to escape. One such mark on the thermos resembled a face, and Plasmius found something about that face to be familiar…

"What is the meaning of this?" he pondered aloud.

"A ghost kept prisoner by Clockwork must be dangerous, unstable, and a menace to all who come near it," the Fright Knight mused.

The two companions shared a look of revelation as the thermos continued to shake.

---

_So…who is it that will oppose me?_

Pariah's voice echoed in the minds of Plasmius and the Fright Knight. Plasmius and the Knight had just returned from their journey, and stood before the tomb. Off to their right was Prince Aragon, a snide look on his face.

"I'm afraid that Clockwork met his end before we could learn of _Tá eagla orm_, my lord," the Knight said, a bit hesitantly. As the mark on his belt began to glow red, and as Aragon's sneer grew, the Knight began to wish he had let Plasmius speak.

You seem to forget, my servant, that you betrayed me. You forget that it is a miracle that I have spared you and continued to have you serve me. You are in no position to displease me. And you, Plasmius…you are worse off than he is, and you have something to lose.

"Quite right," Plasmius nodded. "And I'm most upset about it. But I'm afraid only Clockwork can set back time, so unless you'd like to wait two months, I'm afraid anything on _Tá eagla orm_ other than what's written on the walls here is out of your reach."

Your tongue displeases me, Plasmius… 

The mark on Plasmius's belt became brighter, and the eyes on the Sarcophagus lit up.

"So sorry, sir," Plasmius gulped, backing away a few steps. "But we were able to find something, and it may be of value…"

"You dare to try and buy off Lord Pariah?" Aragon snarled. "He is not one of your foolish henchman! You serve him now!"

"Yes, thank you for reminding me, Prince," Plasmius said, a bit of bite in his comment. "But if Lord Pariah will allow me to show him what we found…"

_You may show me._

"Thank you," Plasmius bowed, and produced from his cloak the Fenton Thermos found in Clockwork's lair. "This device is used by Danny Phantom…"

"That boy!" Aragon roared, his eyes becoming reptilian. "How can he be of any help to us?"

I want nothing to do with the child.

"Ah," Plasmius cooed. "But this device is used by his little friends and himself to capture ghosts. This one was found in Clockwork's lair. Any ghost kept under watch by the Master of Time must be a truly terrible threat to young Daniel. And he must have tremendous power."

…Go on.

"Might this ghost not make a suitable companion to Aragon and myself?"

"You and the Knight," Aragon snarled. "How dare you compare yourself to me!"

Enough, my prince. So, Plasmius, you think another servant is needed?

"Not just any servant, sir. A servant who was deemed so powerful by Clockwork that he kept watch over him directly. That kind of power could be invaluable in tracking down your lost relics…and dealing with any obstacles that could stand in the way. After all, the only one that could be easy to obtain is the throne, because I had it in my possession." Plasmius gestured over to the elaborate seat that sat by the doors, brought to the Keep from his castle in Wisconsin.

…Very well, Pariah finally thought after a time. Release the spirit.

"My lord, I would bind whatever's inside that thing to you, as you did Plasmius and the Knight," Aragon suggested. "We don't know what it is."

A wise thought, my prince. The eyes on the Sarcophagus lit up, and the thermos glowed a bright red for a few moments.

Now you may release the spirit.

Plasmius twisted the lid on the thermos and popped it off.

---

The light, faint though it was, burned at Phantom's eyes. He had not seen it in at least a few months. The pain grew as his body expanded and left its cold prison. He lifted his scalloped cape over his eyes as his feet touched down on hard stone, and only gradually did he let the glow of torches and spirits reach his pupils.

Soon he could see, and the sights before him were familiar, if distant. He stood in a long hall of red masonry, a tall podium at the end of it. Perched atop the stand was an Egyptian sarcophagus, decorated with red eyes and a fiery crown. Torches held firm in their braces, casting their light across the room but creating ominous shadows in the process.

Phantom turned his head about like an owl's, and observed what was behind him. By the doors at the other end of the hall rested a throne, and directly before him stood three spirits. One, a medieval ghost with an ugly sneer on his face, was alien to him. But the other two he remembered well from bygone days of youth; the Fright Knight, Spirit of Halloween, and his old foe Vlad Plasmius. Both bore a strange mark on their belts that looked like pieces of hooks with an eye in the centre. Both wore looks of pure shock on their faces, their gazes directed at the silly emblem on Phantom's chest that had never evolved out of his suit.

Their gazes confused him, and Phantom looked down at the design. A strange heat had entered his chest, as the white emblem of his youth had become blood red. It was also changing form. Within seconds, it was the same mark on the belts of Plasmius and the Knight.

Phantom had barely begun to contemplate the strange symbol when he heard a gasp.

"…Daniel?" Plasmius spat, his eyes wide.

Sense returned to Phantom quickly, and he put on a smug grin.

"Well, well, well…" he sneered. "If it isn't my old idiot cheese head arch-enemy. I see you still have your ghost-powers. Looks like Danny never did turn into me after Clockwork's meddling." He looked down at himself and placed his hands on his chest to insure he was tangible. "But I'm still here. Wait…I could hear in that thing," he shot a glare at the thermos in Plasmius's hands. "They said I existed outside of time…"

A devil's grin replaced his sneer.

"So I can do whatever I want," he chuckled.

"…_Daniel_?" Plasmius repeated. The Knight was gripping his sword harshly. The medieval ghost also had a bewildered air about him.

"Not anymore," Phantom darkly said. "I grew out of it. Though getting away from the Danny you know took a little work…and the deaths of two parents named 'Jack' and 'Maddie.'" He glared over at Plasmius, hoping for some reaction.

"Maddie?" Plasmius gulped, but soon regained his composure. "Nonsense. You may be Daniel's future self from another timeline, but I have no reason to believe your foolish remark."

"Believe it," Phantom said cruelly. "And I got this new suit and face thanks to a little…borrowing of your ghost-half."

"Oh, what stupidity is that?" Plasmius scoffed. "How could you have managed that?"

"Amazing, what the death of a lousy parent will do to a jealous old man. Then again, you were always a fruit-loop."

"I am not a fruit-loop! You, apparently, suffer from delusions. You couldn't possibly have taken my powers!"

Oh?" Phantom said. He split himself into four Phantoms, reassembled, formed red ectoplasm in his hand, and teleported to and from the top of the podium.

"Well?" he said mockingly. "Oh, and the reason I got stuck in that thermos was that I tried to ensure my past by killing everyone close to Danny…Maddie included."

"Liar!" Plasmius yelled, leaping back to his feet. His teeth were bared in rage, and his eyes had lit up. Even the Knight and the medieval spectre looked appalled.

It was delicious.

"Try me," Phantom sneered.

"The equipment I gave Valerie to hunt ghosts has been monitoring Daniel since I gave it to her," Plasmius declared. "They would have detected you."

"Then why am I in this time? One of Jack's stupidly-named inventions was set to Danny's ecto-signature, and couldn't key in to me."

"…Why are you even here?" Plasmius was sounding desperate for arguments now. "It sounds as if the timeline has changed. Why haven't you vanished?"

"Why don't you ask Clockwork? Oh, and one more thing: In my time, I blew up both your houses, and I killed what was left of Danny."

Plasmius roared in fury. He shot forward, arms outstretched, seeming ready to break Phantom's neck. In response, the wicked spectre shot hot red blasts from his eyes, and sent Plasmius crashing back against a pillar of the room.

His task done, Phantom finally whipped his head around. "Ah," he cooed. "Pariah's Keep, still standing. For now." His gloved hands began to glow bright red.

What is it you intend, child? A voice echoed in his ear.

"Who's there?" Phantom said as he raised an eyebrow and lowered his hands.

You cannot recognise my voice, child?

It dawned on him. "Pariah Dark," he muttered.

Trapped within my Sarcophagus after you imprisoned me. But when Plasmius took the Crown of Fire from me, it called back, and I could awaken certain powers, including the one to commune with you through thoughts. I will be brief, child. I wish to return, and return at full power.

"You had the Crown and Ring when Danny fought you," Phantom said. "What were you missing?"

Pariah did not answer. Trapped within here, I summoned my loyal prince, Aragon, to my side. Through the Crown, I managed to enslave Plasmius and return the Fright Knight to my services.

"So…the mighty Vlad is now a lowly henchman," Phantom laughed.

We have an understanding. To repent for his offences against me, he will help track down my six relics, restore me to power, and help me erase your former self from existence. If he does this, I will pardon him for his meddling, and restore to him that which I have taken.

"And that is…?" Phantom asked, but this question was also ignored.

Plasmius has given me my throne, the first artefact. But five remain, and it may be perilous to track them down. I will need Plasmius and my servant the Knight in the future, and I wish no harm to befall Aragon. Another hand may be needed. If you serve me, I shall accept you as a new entity, separate from the child, and you shall be given freedom and power under my reign. But if you do not wish to serve, then you shall bear the punishment for your young self. Choose, and be warned, I can sense your thoughts.

Phantom leaned back laughing. How stupid did this ghost think he was? "Not much of a deal," he chuckled, rubbing his thumb and middle fingers together nonchalantly. "Can't see a lot in it for me."

"How about your life?" Aragon growled.

Precisely.

Phantom felt a rush of cold run into his head and seep down through his body. He broke out into a chill so severe that he fell to his knees. His vision turned blue, and he saw lightning run along his body, sending him into wild convulsions.

I have placed on you my Mark. So long as you wear it, you are bound to me, and I can control or kill you if I wish. I will now rephrase my offer: you may serve, or you may perish.

The lightning and cold left Phantom's body. His expression was no longer so smug. He grunted at the coffin before him, but didn't dare make a rebuttal. He had no wish to meet an untimely end. Humiliation was to be preferred over death.

But this was not something he would tolerate for long. He had enjoyed ten years of freedom, and he was not about to give that up so easily. He knew from Danny's battle with the despot that Pariah had weaknesses, and he intended to exploit them as soon as he could.

He did not see Aragon glaring at him, suspicion in his eyes. There was no mistaking that emblem. Regardless of how it had happened, Danny Phantom had become this figure, and the transformation was frightening. Aragon felt an aura of deceit about the figure, and he was not about to let this new presence – or Plasmius, or the traitorous Knight – threaten his master.

The Fright Knight was also apprehensive about this arrival. Pariah needed to be kept happy, so that his temper would not cause him to punish the Knight for his betrayal. A happy Pariah might also lower his guard or free the Knight from his mark, providing a chance to escape. If this older version of Danny Phantom revived his smarmy attitude, things could go wrong.

Plasmius seethed with rage and suspicion. If what this creature – and it wasn't Daniel – said was true, and he did absorb Plasmius's ghost-half in another time, then that was an offence worthy of vengeance. And, much as he would like to deny it, the bits of story that this spectre had given seemed possible. Even with that aside, Plasmius had too much at stake, and his own plans for Pariah, to let this character get in the way…

---

_When 'roused, the King shall hear a Call_

_And Summon Three Souls, Dark and Tall…_


	5. Quests Beginning

Quickly the students of Casper High filed out of the building as the three-o-clock bell sounded, releasing them from another day of education. Outside they gathered, some jumping into buses and cars and others conversing in small groups as they waited for their rides to arrive.

Danny, Sam and Tucker stayed back towards the school steps, their voices low and their manner unassuming as they spoke.

"Well, today's the day," Sam said cheerfully. "You ready, Danny?"

"…I don't know, Sam," Danny said glumly, slumping down against the wall. "I mean…why would Clockwork think I was the right person to stop this prophecy?"

"Hmm, let's see," Sam said, letting out an acted sigh. "You stopped him before, you stopped a jerky evil version of yourself and learned everything he wanted you to while you did that, and you always save Amity Park." She gave him a knowing smile.

"Yeah, but…" Sam sighed. Danny was as stubborn when he was unsure of something as he was when he thought he had the answers.

"Danny, we can't do anything about it. Clockwork's gone by now, and he won't be back for two months. Katou's already here, the bad guys are already trying to find Pariah's artefacts, and you're the guy who needs to stop him. So stop worrying so much," she patted him on the shoulder. "You'll do fine."

"Yeah!" Tucker added. "Now c'mon! You've got your first day of sword and kung fu samurai ghost training!"

---

"You're having him learn Chinese!?" Tucker gasped incredulously for the fifth time that day.

The foursome had gathered in the basement of Katou's quarters. The old samurai had wasted no time in setting training into motion. Danny and friends had just barely greeted the ghost when he ushered them downstairs to give Danny an idea of what he was in for. The image painted portrayed rigorous and varied work in the ghostly arts and ancient practices and koryu and all manners of swordplay, and that the old arts from his day would be the starting point. Due to the combination of the word "swordplay" and the teenaged boy's mind, Danny and Tucker became quite excited, despite the doubts of the former, and great indeed was their disappointment when they realised that the first lesson involved writing a complex language while Katou sat and meditated. And so he did, Sam and Tucker at his sides and Danny, in ghost form, at a desk across from them.

"What does this have to do with saving the world?" Danny groaned, having been studying and writing kanji for an hour.

"Calligraphy was of the highest of arts in ancient times," Katou said simply, not even opening his eyes from meditation. "Careful detail and concentration is required in all styles, and those are things you will need when facing Pariah. Once you can master them here, we will move on to the martial arts."

"This is so cool!" Sam grinned. "Once the threat of Doomsday is over and you don't have to teach Danny all this, do you think I could learn it?"

Danny continued to grumble, and losing his grip and leaving a long smear of ink across his paper did not help his mood. "Do you do this for all your students?" he asked.

"I am using a different approach with you," Katou said.

Sam, who had been sitting between Katou and Tucker during this time, looked over at the samurai. Yet again, he seemed uncomfortable about training Danny and about his past. Why would he be experimenting with training styles with Armageddon imminent? Did he have a problem with a former student?

"Is there a problem, Sam?" Katou asked, opening his eyes and turning toward her.

"No!" Sam said quickly. "No problem." She grinned sheepishly. "So…shouldn't we be worried about those artefacts?"

"Ah," Katou smiled. Reaching out with his right hand, he summoned towards him a roll of parchment and spread it out on the floor in front of them. A detailed and ornately illustrated map of The Ghost Zone had been drawn upon the scroll, detailing thousands of places all across the realm.

"Can we borrow this?" Tucker asked, his mouth hanging open. He and Sam gazed upon the map in awe – their own efforts to plot The Ghost Zone had nothing on this!

"Danny, take a break. You'll need to hear this," Katou said, beckoning for his pupil to join them. Danny nearly leapt from his chair and dashed over.

"Whoa!" he let out, bending down on his knees for a closer look. "That's some map!"

"Now," the samurai began, drawing out his _tantō_ knife to point at locations. "In the days of the Order of Afterlife, the founding council sought to find Pariah's relics and hide them from the world, should The Ghost King ever return. However, these artefacts had been sent into the most remote regions of the realm, outside our boarders, and the Ancients faded away before we could ask for their help. With all else we had to do, in the end we only found the whereabouts of the balance and the sceptre.

"The sanctuary of the Order was destroyed some years ago," Katou shivered at the memory, "but some of our writings may have survived. A drawing and map to the balance lies there…"

With those words, Sam stopped listen for but a moment and remembered back to what Clockwork had said:

Vlad knows how to find the bow and the chest – and the balance, too.

Vlad had known at least a few things about Pariah and the Fright Knight without ever being with them before, and seemed to have ghostly alliances all over the place. He could easily have learned of the Order without being with them. But could he have known that they had a map to the balance with such ease?

Katou was still speaking, so she diverted her attention yet again towards him.

"…But, before we move to claim that, I feel that we should go for the sceptre."

"Why?" Danny asked.

"The sceptre is in the hands of the ghost of Chinese explorer Zheng He. It's difficult to get in touch with him, but tomorrow night, we will have an opening. He and I were on good terms last we met, so I should be able to barter the sceptre from him."

"What do we have to trade?" Tucker asked.

"My bottles and vases are filled with many things," Katou answered, motioning about the room. He did indeed have quite the collection.

"How come we'll be able to get in touch with him tomorrow night?" Sam asked.

"Every year, on that night, there is a ghostly ball at eight o' clock in a haunted mansion. Zheng He attends every year. The rest of the time, he's off exploring The Ghost Zone, so you can't pin him down. All ghosts are welcome."

"How many usually go?" Danny said.

"In my day, all of them. I see no reason for that to have changed."

Danny gulped. "I'm not exactly on good terms with a lot of ghosts…"

"Don't worry," Katou smiled. "Animosity is put aside during the ball. The peace isn't held as firmly as the Christmas Pact, but they do their best, and often succeed. We should get in without a problem."

"What about us?" Tucker said. "We're no ghosts."

"You want to come?" Katou asked.

"Where Danny goes, we go," Sam said.

"Then leave that problem to me," Katou bowed. "Once we get the sceptre, we'll have to work fast to get the rest of the artefacts. I wouldn't be surprised at all if Pariah had his henchmen coming The Ghost Zone at this very moment for them."

---

"Pull up those bed sheets!" Youngblood barked.

"That's 'hoist sail,'" his skeletal parrot pet grumbled.

"Oh, right."

Captain Youngblood's ship sailed across the ether of The Ghost Zone, the crew hard at work manning the ship. Yet there was a celebratory atmosphere on board – the ghostly crew of buccaneers had just taken a cargo ship and made off with pound upon pound of booty. Riches untold rested below deck, and chests beyond worth sat in the captain's quarters.

Onward they pressed, singing many a jolly song, when the vessel made a fearful lurch forward. Wood could be heard snapping at the bow, and discomforting sounds came from the bottom of the masts. Youngblood and much of his crew fell flat on their faces, and had to stagger to their feet as the ship ceased to move.

"Arrgh!" the would-be captain cried. "What did we hit?"

"Nothing!" the lookout called.

"What?" Youngblood piped. "That's impossible! We had to hit something! I mean, it's not like anything could have wrapped around the ship and forced it to stop."

He had no sooner uttered these words when two snaking green coils of ecto-energy swarmed around the masts and pulled hard, snapping them as though they were toothpicks. The lookout flew from the crow's nests down to the deck as the masts and the sails fell off the sides of the ship and down into the never-ending void of The Ghost Zone. The two serpentine ropes were joined by eight fellows, and they all fled down into the gun ports. Cannons were ripped out from the deck and flung out in all directions. Not content with disarming the ship, the ecto-ropes ran throughout the ship, dragging away crewmen and smashing at everything in sight.

From a distance away, Phantom wore a malicious grin. The slightest gesture of any of his ten fingers sent one of the ecto-ropes into a manic frenzy of destruction. Each snap of wood and each pirate's scream sent a rush through his body, and the rush grew with each new injury inflicted. Did it ever feel to be free of that thermos!

He was quite excited from his fun when a sword severed his ecto-ropes, and the master of that sword landed a sharp kick to his chest.

"Fool!" the Fright Knight yelled. "Lord Pariah's chest is on that ship! What were you trying to do, destroy it?"

"Yes," Phantom snarled.

"You forget your place, Phantom!" a large black dragon sneered. "You serve Lord Pariah now, and you will do his bidding!"

"He has three of you kissing up to him already," Phantom shot back. "He'll get his chest. Why can't I have my fun?"

"Your life may be a reason!" Aragon snarled.

"Enough!" Plasmius flew up behind his three colleagues. "Fright Knight, come with me onboard."

"How dare you give the orders!" Aragon snapped. "I am heir to Pariah's throne!"

"Yes, and you're doing a fine job at 'keeping us in line' as your master ordered," Plasmius sneered. "Knight, with me!" And the half-ghost and the Knight soared down towards the ruined ship before the prince could say another word.

The deck was a terrible mess when Plasmius landed upon it. It was riddled with holes caused by Phantom's work, and dust and loose wood was scattered everywhere. There were but two souls left on this ghost of a ghost-ship; the youthful captain and his parrot.

"Ah," Plasmius called cordially. "Hello, my good boy! You recently looted a certain ship we had been tracking. There was a small golden chest on board. We would like to have it."

The boy seemed timid at first, but slowly regained some edge to his voice. "And…and what if I chose to fight ye for it?" he demanded, raising up his hooked hand.

Plasmius glanced over towards the Knight, and his friend pointed the Soul Shredder at the child's throat.

"One chest, coming up!" the boy laughed nervously, dashing off towards his cabin. He soon returned with a small, gleaming, golden chest, marked on the lock with a ghostly skull capped off with a flaming crown.

"Pariah's chest!" the Knight cried in triumph. "With the throne, that makes two."

"And soon to be three," Plasmius chuckled. He pulled back his glove to hit a button on his communicator watch. "Skulker," he said into the timepiece. "We have the chest. How is your quest coming?"

"I have the map in my hands, and I'm on the hunt as we speak," the predator ghost said through the other line. "You're sure things will go according to your plan?"

Plasmius and the Knight exchanged another glance.

"I am sure, Skulker. Find the bow and bring it to me. Plasmius out," he shut off his watch and turned to his flaming friend. "Let's go." The two took off, heading back towards Aragon and Phantom. Once they reached their comrades, Phantom let two great ecto-orbs fly from his hands towards the ship. The vessel was completely disintegrated, the child and his pet just barely managing to flee the flaming wreckage.

"Was that really necessary?" Plasmius sighed in distaste.

"No," Phantom smirked.

"Let's get this chest back to the Keep and head for the Order's lair," Plasmius said. "A map there leads to the balance."

"Now I will give orders," Aragon said defiantly. "I've heard tales of a ghost of a man from the Orient who holds the sceptre in his possession. The only time he can be found is at the ghostly ball tomorrow night. Your ruins will be there for ages, but this ghost can never be found after the ball is over."

Plasmius stroked his beard in thought. In his days with Katou, he had heard of this figure – the ghost of Zheng He. He had not heard that the explorer possessed the sceptre of Pariah. Perhaps they hadn't known. But in any event, Aragon did make sense in this instance. And his own agendas had the chance to be served. Katou was on the run from Walker, but a fairly consistent peace was kept at the ball. Plasmius knew from experience - he had attended the ball twice before, once with Katou and once with the Family, and was amazed at the peace between the warring parties of The Ghost Zone.

The old samurai could very well appear at the ball, hoping to find some old friends who could offer him help. And breaking the peace tomorrow night would not result in lost ties, as breaking the Christmas Pact would.

"Very well, Aragon," he smiled. "Tomorrow night it is, then."


	6. The Ghostly Ball

"Dude," Tucker grinned as he posed in the mirror. "You are lookin' fine."

"Thanks," Danny quipped, moving up beside Tuck. The techno-geek paid him no mind and continued to admire himself in Katou's looking glass.

The eve before the ghostly ball had arrived, and the two boys and Katou sat in the samurai's basement, waiting for Sam. For whatever reason, she had gone home after school, rather than accompanying Danny and Tuck to Katou's. But the boys had gone ahead, and after Danny got his _kanji_ practice over with, the boys dressed for the event.

Tucker and Danny had been told that this was not the most formal event in The Ghost Zone, but it was a bigger affair than a school dance. Through Sam, the boys had managed to obtain tailored, black jacket tuxedos. Danny wore his over his ghost half's uniform, while Tucker left his beret on despite his new clothing. Katou had changed into silk robes, with kanji and fine designs sewn into the black fabric. His black hair had been tied back neatly into a topknot, and he wore a sword with a handle decorated with a silver dragon.

Earlier that day, Danny had asked Katou exactly _why_ he and his friends needed to come along to this ball. Even with a truce in place, Danny had a very uneasy feeling about this outing. Katou's response was that it would be part of Danny's training to actually go out and face _Tá eagla orm_ directly whenever it was possible and not life threatening.

Tucker paid that conversation no mind, though. He continued to gaze upon his reflection. "So, how are you gonna make Sam and me look like ghosts?" he asked as he kept on posing.

"Well…" Katou began. Before he could finish, however, a knocking came from upstairs. "Ah," he said. "That must be Sam." He rose to his feet and headed up the stairs. Soon after, he was back down, Sam behind him. She had pulled back her hair and held it there with a decorated band, and a black and deep red shimmering dressed covered her form.

"…Sam," Danny stammered. "Uh…whoa. You…look great!"

Sam flushed slightly. "Nice tux." Both she and Danny smiled shyly. Tucker both rolled his eyes and grinned. Katou looked among the trio, eyebrows cocked.

"Are we ready, then?" the samurai asked.

"As soon as you make us look like ghosts," Tuck answered.

"Aha," Katou nodded. He stepped over to the long table that held all of his things, and lifted up a long, corked green vase. He popped the top off, and out drifted a thin blue mist.

"This potion," said he, "is a very special form of ectoplasm. A small dose given to a human being will allow them to obtain solid form in The Ghost Zone and a glow about them. You will not have any ghostly abilities – you will merely have a spectre's appearance. But the dosage is crucial. Take too much, and you'll end up a true ghost. Now I'll measure it out this time, but be sure to see how much. This may come in handy later, and I may not be around to measure it out."

The samurai motioned with his hand, and two very small green glasses appeared at the edge of the table. Each was half-filled with a shining blue liquid.

"This will be here," Katou said as he placed the vase at the far right corner of the table. "Those," he gestured toward the cups, "will be next to it. Drink up."

Sam and Tuck glanced between one another before the goth girl lifted up her glass and drained the liquid. She gagged as it went down, but a ghostly aura quickly lit up around her, and her amethyst eyes began to glow. Nevertheless, her reaction to the potion caused Tucker to take his time, sniffing at the concoction and dipping his finger into it before finally choking it down in exaggerated fashion.

"Are you through?" Katou asked, crossing his arms in annoyance.

Tucker watched as a spectre's light began radiating about his frame. "Ready," he piped, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get that sceptre! And see if any ghost-girls at that ball don't have a dance partner." At that, Danny and Sam both rolled their eyes.

"Come here, all three of you," Katou said, motioning for them to come closer. As they did, he placed his hands on Danny and Tuck's shoulders, and asked one of them to take hold of Sam. Danny offered her his arm, she took it, and they both flushed slightly.

Katou closed his eyes, concentrated a moment, and in a swirl of green, the foursome vanished.

---

The Haunted Mansion floated about in The Ghost Zone, with no bit of land to support it. It was a black building, designed in the Gothic style. Gargoyles covered the walls, and spire towers erupted from the roof. Sickly yellow light filtered through the arched windows, as did melancholy melodies and saddened lyrics. Yet over the dreary compositions could be heard murmurs of conversation, laughter at jokes, and the exchange of blows and ecto-blasts. A green piece of energy went smashing through one window and out into nothing.

Danny, his friends, and his mentor floated before the ten-foot door to the palace, Sam and Tucker holding on to Danny for support. A snippy-looking woman in a Victorian dress and her hair in a bun stood at the door, glasses covering her shut eyes. Another ecto-blast erupted through the window just above the door. The woman paid it no mind. The children gulped together.

"Peaceful night, huh?" Danny muttered, his eyes narrowing as they shifted over toward Katou.

The samurai shrugged. "Things must have changed in eight years." His demeanour seemed calm, but Danny thought he heard the old ghost gulp as well. "Shall we?"

The foursome flew forward until they were just in front of the woman. "Good evening," Katou said cheerfully. He bowed, and Danny and his friends did the same. The woman did nothing but open her eyes, which were completely blue.

Katou went on. "If you'll forgive me, I've been away for eight years, and my friends here are coming to the ghostly ball for the first time. Was the peace of this event revoked recently?"

"It has been gone since the Order and the Family fell," the woman spoke disdainfully, with a thick Russian accent. "Do you wish to enter?"

"One more question, please," Katou said. "Has Walker arrived yet?"

"The chief of police will not be attending," the woman droned. "He is out searching for a samurai ghost."

Danny had a silent sigh of relief at the fact that this ghost seemed to make no connection between his new teacher and Walker's samurai fugitive.

Katou, now noticeably more worried than before, looked down at Danny and his friends. "Perhaps I should go alone, then…"

"No way!" Tucker protested. "I'm all dressed up and ready to dance!"

"Danny?" Sam asked, looking to her friend for an answer.

Danny sighed. He _really_ wanted to leave. He had a terrible feeling about this ball, which had substantially increased with the news that there was no more truce. And he _really_ wanted to have as little to do with Pariah's relics and _Tá eagla orm_ as possible.

But, much as he disliked the notion of going on with all this, he could not forget the faith Clockwork had in him, or the fact that if he _did_ run away, then his old samurai master would have to deal with all of this on his own.

He gulped. "Let's just get this over with."

"Are you sure?" Katou asked. With great force, Danny managed to nod.

"Then…may we go in?" the samurai asked.

The woman closed her eyes once more, stepped to the side, and slowly pulled open the aged door, which groaned as it moved.

"Enjoy your stay," the ghost grunted in the least attractive tone Danny could imagine for an invitation.

Katou bowed again, and Danny and friends followed suit. "Thank you very much," the samurai said. "We will indeed enjoy the evening." And with that, the foursome stepped into the mansion.

Danny felt his jaw slide down as he beheld the spectacle before him. A vast ballroom with marble floors, pillars circling the entire area, a ceiling with the most detailed and beautiful paintings of ancient ghostly battles, and an ornate chandelier with a thousand flickering candles lay just down a short white hall from the door. The floors were so finely polished that crystal clear reflections could be seen in it, and the lights of the chandelier filled the ballroom with a yellow glow so warm that Danny could scarcely believe it the source of the haunting aura he had just seen through the windows.

More spectacular than the setting was the crowd of the ball itself. Most everyone had donned tuxedos and dresses, and some went as far as to have gowns and white ties and coat tails. Yet while a small percentage displayed exquisite manners and had the right touch of smarm and restraint that Danny always associated with this level of class, many of the guests enjoyed the ball in a much more wild and exuberant manner. Ghosts in coat tails and monocles were gathered in groups on the floor, intently focused on their games of Pirate's Dice. There was hardly a dancing couple in sight. Spirits flew about the room screaming like delighted banshees, while laughter and loud conversations and arguments leapt from the far end of the floor. At least several of these arguments had broken into fistfights and ecto-wars, and at least one of these had involved some ghosts that Danny had fought. They weren't spirits that he saw on a regular basis, but nevertheless had been difficult to defeat.

The ghost-boy tried to resist dabbing at the sweat beginning to build on his face.

"OK," he breathed. "The truce for this dance is gone, but that's OK. We just need to find this Zheng He, get the sceptre, and get out. There's nothing to worry about."

He remained still for a few seconds, and then jumped up to Katou's level and grabbed at his robes. "Where the heck is Zheng He!?"

"Relax, Danny." Sam's voice came to his ears, and he felt her pull him back down to the floor. "You'll be fine. Right?" she looked up at Katou at her last word, voice tone a bit less sure.

"What's the rush?" Tucker asked. His tone was oddly dreamy, and Danny saw that he was staring at two very lovely young ghost-ladies who were not doing anything at the moment.

"Tucker, you may go and…socialise," Katou coughed slightly on his last word, but seemed sincere. In any event, Tucker dashed off so quickly that Danny couldn't follow his movements.

"Why don't you two go and have a bit of fun, too?" Katou said. "I'll come and find you when I've met up with Zheng He."

Danny let his shoulders slump as he turned gravely towards his teacher. "Katou, there's no peace here anymore, there's a bunch of ghosts fighting each other, and I've seen a few that hate me. How am I supposed to enjoy myself!?"

Katou chuckled. "Enemies, you say? I wouldn't worry about it too much. There's plenty else to occupy their time." He nodded towards the ballroom, and sure enough, no one that Danny knew had their attentions directed at him.

"…Why don't we just come with you to get the sceptre?" Danny said, sliding over to stand by the samurai.

"I like that idea more," Sam concurred.

"Zheng He's a bit eccentric," Katou said, gently pushing Danny back over by Sam. "Seeing me after eight years will be a bit of a shock for him. I think we should have a few words before I introduce you to him. But, if what you say is true…"

He took his sword from his robes and placed it in Danny's hands. "There is more than one infamous figure in this realm. The ghost who originally carried this blade was a terrible presence, and it was only after a terrible battle that I managed to retrieve this. Carry it with you, and I think that most potential foes would be a bit hesitant to strike." He smiled. "Now go on and enjoy yourselves."

His smile was for once more warm than sad, giving Danny some assurance. And a second look towards his old foes showed them no more attentive than before. With a sigh, then, Danny smiled, linked arms with Sam, and headed into the ballroom, though making sure to keep towards the walls and not the open floor.

And he actually found himself beginning to relax, despite noticing that Sam cast a curious glance back towards the old samurai.

---

Katou continued smiling until Danny and Sam rounded the corner of the hall and disappeared into the ballroom. As soon as he was sure that all three of the children couldn't see him, he turned his attention to the grave matter at hand. He glanced towards where he had seen the menace. He sighed in relief when it was clear that the figures hadn't seen either himself or Danny.

Vlad Plasmius and Prince Aragon were just across the ballroom, huddled together in hushed conversation. Aragon was dressed as he always did, while Vlad was draped in a high-collared, red-lined black opera cloak draped over evening wear. The cape and clothes did not completely manage to hide the fact that his belt buckle was now in the shape of Pariah's Mark.

Katou looked away quickly. He struggled to keep his breathing tempered. He should have foreseen this. Vlad knew of the ball. He might not have known of the sceptre, but he could easily be on the trail of any of the artefacts. And now that he was here, he might see Katou with Danny, and make the connection.

Katou groaned. Why hadn't he told Danny yet?

The samurai's first thought after seeing Vlad was to take the children home and come back for the sceptre, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He had no excuse as to why they had to leave, and no reason to go back alone. And, though he did need to explain the link between Plasmius and himself, now was not the proper time.

He looked towards the two cads again, and felt his back go stiff. Plasmius was staring right at him.

---

"Look at me, slave!" Aragon snarled. "You're supposed to follow my lead!"

"Prince, I do wish you would shut up," Plasmius muttered. He barely heard the grunt of the arrogant prince's response, but he truly didn't care what the man had said. He had other matters to focus on.

There, right across from him, was the samurai Katou. He felt his lips curl up into a wicked smile as he noticed the old fool staring at him like a deer in the headlights.

Plasmius was surprised. Despite the scars he had left on Katou, the samurai looked very much the same. He was more gaunt and his hair carried more grey, but that and the wounds aside, he seemed quite unchanged. His sad and tired eyes especially had survived eight years with Walker. Such eyes made it very easy to sense the nervousness of the man.

The smile on the half-ghost grew. Should he manage to get the sceptre as well as slay the samurai, it would be a night for celebration indeed.

He rose to his feet and silently drifted across the ballroom, going around crowds and dancers and ignoring Aragon's incessant commands to return. All the while Katou remained where he was, his grave stare poignant but flying off Plasmius's devilish sneer.

Within moments he had crossed the floor, and he and his old master stood face to face for the first time in eight years.

"Why hello, Katou," Plasmius greeted him in the most exaggerated fashion, clasping his hands together and grinning from ear to ear.

"Vlad," Katou hissed out in quiet pain.

The grand performance continued. "Oh, do call me Plasmius. How long has it been, old man? Eight years? Why, you've barely changed at all." Cold menace slid into his voice. "You've even healed more from that burn than I would have thought."

Katou bristled, giving Plasmius a delicious rush.

"To what do I owe the…pleasure of your company?" the samurai asked, remaining solemn and grave.

"Oh come now, Katou," Plasmius purred, cocking an eyebrow. "Do you really think I wouldn't hear when a samurai escaped from Walker's high-security cells?"

"And what of it?" Katou demanded. "I'm no threat to you. You found that out eight years ago. Leave me in peace."

"Ah," Plasmius tisked. "But I know you and your code, Katou. After all the things I've done that you disapprove of, you won't let me be, will you? So how can I let you be?"

"Plasmius!" Aragon's voice brought an abrupt halt to the half-ghost's delight. "What do you think you're doing!?"

"Do go away, Aragon," Plasmius said simply, his face slipping into a frown as his eyes remained on Katou.

"You will not command Prince Aragon!" And with that roar, the arrogant royalty reached around, ceased Plasmius by the collar of his cloak, and pulled the half-ghost around to face him.

"We are not here for you to have fun with old friends," the prince growled. "Your master, my lord, needs something that is here!"

"And I'm sure he'll be pleased that you so subtly discuss it," Plasmius sneered. "I have other things to worry about."

"You'll need to worry about your life if you displease your superior."

"We'll get to that, don't worry. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Plasmius turned back around, but Katou had gone. The half-ghost searched the nearby crowd, but there was no trace of the samurai.

"Fool," he growled at the prince. Why couldn't that imbecile keep his mouth shut?

"Enough of this," Aragon sneered. "We have a ghost to find. Where is he? You served the Order, tell me of his appearance."

"You don't even know what he looks like?" Plasmius spat.

"Well…" the prince started, but whisked his head around as something caught his eye. "_Phantom_?!"

Plasmius looked towards the main doors to where Aragon was glaring and, sure enough, there stood the spirit from the future. He too had donned an opera cloak, though under it were just his typical clothes. His head was held low, and he had a devil's grin, as always.

"Well, well," he crowed, floating over to join the twosome. "Not much luck?"

"What are you doing here?" Aragon demanded, and for once, Plasmius concurred with him. He did not need another one of his so-called "allies" meddling now.

"We told you to go with the Knight and follow my map to the Order's sanctuary," he snarled.

"I know," Phantom feigned a yawn. "He's in this with you, isn't you? So if he's going to get the chest, then why do I need to go with him? You'll still get what you want. Now leave me alone."

"Pariah will know how little you did to serve him," Aragon hissed, careful to speak in more hushed tones than before. "If you ever wish to be free or to live, you will do more to aid us!"

"Fine," Phantom sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes as he did so. "What do you need?"

"The ghost of Zheng He is here somewhere with the sceptre," Plasmius said. "We need to find him. What he looks like, we don't know."

"But," Aragon took over, "the sceptre is…"

"Long, gold, and topped off with a flaming crown on a skull and bat-wings, with Pariah's Mark on the crown?" Phantom cynically stated.

"How did you know that?" Aragon questioned, and Plasmius found himself curious as well.

Phantom sighed again and pointed over Aragon's shoulder. The prince and the half-ghost turned to see a stocky, clean-shaven Asian ghost with blue skin, white robes, and a red cloak on the far side of the ballroom, heading down another hallway. In his right hand was a sceptre – Pariah's sceptre. With his left hand he was fumbling with a black cloth that had apparently covered the top of the staff and fallen off. The robed ghost quickly slipped the cover back on turned to another ghost, leading him along.

That other ghost was Katou.

Plasmius gritted his teeth. He would have liked very much to believe that the two ghosts across the room were merely old friends going off together to catch up on old times. But Katou doubtlessly knew of _Tá eagla orm_ from the Order. He would have known, too, of the artefacts, and at the very least known about the balance.

Apparently, he also knew of the sceptre.

After getting Katou locked away, Plasmius never envisioned the old fool being a threat to him again. News of his escape merely gave Plasmius some sport, and the chance to further humiliate the aged windbag by showing off how much he'd succeeded by following the course Katou disdained so.

Now more than ever, the samurai was a threat to Plasmius – and possibly didn't even realise the extent to which he had endangered the half-ghost.

And so Plasmius raised no objections when Aragon commanded him to come along and follow the two men of the Orient.

---

"In here, my old friend."

Zheng He silently turned the knob and opened the fourth door on the left side of the hallway. Katou quickly hurried inside.

The room was small and dark, with two chairs covered in blue velvet. Katou slid into the left seat with a sigh of relief. That was _too_ close.

Zheng He sat across from the samurai, setting Pariah's staff on the floor near his chair. "That was rather close," he observed the obvious. "Usually, I have the staff better covered than that. But, no harm done." He smiled. "It has been some time, Katou. It is good to know that one of the Order remains."

Katou smiled at that. Zheng He hadn't changed at all. It made him cringe slightly at having told Danny that the old explorer was a bit off his rocker. But he couldn't go and fetch Danny now – not with Plasmius around. Until Katou told the children of his history with Vlad, Vlad could not be allowed to see them together.

The samurai sighed, and asked himself again: Why hadn't he told Danny?

"I suspect that you wish to do more than visit," Zheng He sighed as well as he crossed his legs. "What is it you want of me?"

_Of course_, Katou thought. There was the immediate objective to consider. But he thought himself a bit too relieved at the shift of his focus.

"Yes," said he with a cough. "Zheng He, you've travelled The Ghost Zone and ran missions for the Order. Surely you've learned of _Tá eagla orm_."

The answer came from the explorer's shuddering.

Katou went on. "Then I suspect you know what his six relics hold within them."

Lights seemed to go off in Zheng He's eyes. "And you are standing in his way, I take it?" he asked.

"Aiding the one appointed to stand in his way," Katou corrected.

"And where is he?"

"…Occupied," Katou threw out sloppily.

If Zheng He noticed, he made no sign. "Unfortunately," he said, "I will not part with this treasure so easily, even for _Tá eagla orm_," he gestured toward the sceptre. "You must have something to trade."

"And I do."

Katou reached into his robes and withdrew a small vial. He cast it down on the ground, and in its place rested a fat blue bottle. Zheng He picked it up and removed the top. Green smoke puffed out in the shape of a heart.

The explorer smiled. "Rare is it to find a good trader and an honest one," said he. "The crew of my ship have been in need of this for some time. For such a thing, you may have the sceptre."

Katou sunk down in his chair in content and relief. But it did not last, for but a moment had passed before a crashing sound emerged from behind the door.

"What was that?" the samurai asked as he jumped out of his seat, alert.

Zheng He remained where he was, but turned his head toward the door. His eyes lit up in a blazing teal, casting a glow about the room.

"Two ghosts are outside our door," he reported. "One is Prince Aragon. I do not know the other…"

Katou grimaced. "I do."

---

Tucker sat upon the marble floor, pouting. His endeavours to find a partner for dancing had thus far proven unsuccessful – again. Worse, the music remained melancholy and dull. Sam and Danny stood over him, the girl glancing down in pity and the ghost-boy nervous once more, his brief repose gone.

"Where is Katou?" Danny muttered as he rubbed his hands together continually.

"Danny, just relax," Sam said, though she too was a bit uneasy. "No one's noticed you're here. And besides, we have the sword, and it's doing a good job at scaring everyone off." It was true – many ghosts were intentionally striving to avoid the trio.

"I know," Danny sighed. "I know. But he's taking too long! And I…I just have a bad feeling about this ball. I want to get out of here!"

"I'm with you, man," Tucker pouted. "I can't believe I can't get a date, even here!"

"Like anyone wants to dance to this music anyway," Sam muttered. It was true – there didn't seem to be a ghost at the ball who was enjoying the music being played. "Isn't there one decent song at this ball?"

She had no sooner yelled than the latest song of dreariness ended and a low rhythmic beat from a timpani began. A sixty-piece orchestra of oboes, flutes and piccolos, clarinets, bassoons, violins and cellos, French horns, and percussion accompanied by three long-haired spirits with electric guitars had materialised off to one side of the ballroom. The horns, strings, and flutes soon sounded, followed by the guitars with the melody. The key was minor, like the rest of the songs of the night, but energy and drive flowed out from the music, and it was more than welcome by the spectres. Cheers erupted from the crowd, and calls and names were thrown out. At last ghosts turned away from their conversations, fights, and games, and flooded the floor to dance. Couples swept into each other's arms and soared across the room, while some flew high into the air and waltzed about. One couple was even upside-down, dancing on the ceiling. Not a soul seemed interested in anything else, and all delighted in the wordless song – including Sam.

"Now this is more like it!" she joined the crowd in their adulation. Danny and Tuck had to agree – while the techno-geek found any orchestral music a bit square, anything was an improvement over what they'd been subjected to earlier.

"Sweet!" he said with a grin. "Time to get a date!"

"And time to start dancing," Sam chimed in. She grabbed Danny's arm and pulled him onto the dance floor, blending into the sea of waltzing spirits. The ghost-boy just barely had enough time to toss Katou's blade into Tucker's hands. Tense at first, Danny could soon be seen to lighten in spirits considerably. He was soon leading, and Tucker lost sight of his two friends as they spun about and disappeared into the crowd.

He let himself smile for them, then turned his attention to a more important matter – finding an available ghost-girl. There was hardly a soul left who wasn't in somebody's arms on the dance floor, but there were a few fetching lasses on the sides still, seeming to wait for someone to come along and ask them for a waltz. Two especially caught his eye, and Tuck began mulling over which one to choose when a strange white flame across the room made itself known.

Tucker went up against the wall in fear, struggling to keep on his feet.

"Oh no…" he whispered.

There, clad in a black opera cloak , was the future version of Danny. He leaned against a pillar with his arms folded, a disinterested look about his face. His eyes darted around occasionally, seeming to look for somewhere he could cause harm.

With a gasp Tucker pulled himself together best he could. A thousand questions flooded his analytical mind – chiefly, how Phantom could possibly still exist, let alone be present here – but those would have to wait until a later time. There was a much more important task at hand. He searched the ocean of happy couples, but could not find Danny and Sam anywhere. Katou was nowhere in sight either. Tucking Katou's sword into his cummerbund, he stepped onto the floor and began moving across, but he could not manage to navigate around the dancing. Constantly couples were bumping into him, or he was tripping over somebody's feet. His beret was nearly knocked aside at one point, and his glasses were smacked away. As he searched for them on the floor, an aged and gnarled voice came from behind him.

"You look like you could use a dance partner, sweetie!"

Having found his glasses and put them back on, Tucker looked up to see an ancient witch with a giant nose containing two hairy warts, clad in black and reeking of the stench of old cabbage.

"Oh, come on!" Tucker moaned, but there was no time to complain. The hag grabbed for his hand, placed an arm on his shoulder, and yanked him to his feet. The witch was moving much too fast for the music and spinning Tucker so wildly that he feared he would be sent flying into a pillar at any moment. Doing his best to ignore the frantic steps – and his partner's smell – he searched the crowd for his friends, while trying to keep an eye on the menace from the future.

You think you could have mentioned this, Clockwork? He thought, wondering if the departed Master of Time could hear him from beyond. 

---

"Where is he?" Aragon snarled.

"I'm looking," Plasmius shot back. The prince would have made a retort, but he had other matters to worry over.

They had searched through the first six rooms along the unlit hall, and no sign of either the samurai or the spirit with the sceptre had revealed themselves. Aragon was getting tense. Pariah did not like to be displeased, and loss of the sceptre when it could not be retrieved again for a year would indeed upset him. Aragon did not fear for his own safety, and under ordinary circumstances, he would have cared little for the fate of such riffraff as Plasmius or the Fright Knight or Phantom. However, if in his anger Pariah chose to waste then, then Aragon would be left alone to track down the remaining artefacts – and, much as he hated to admit it, such a task would inevitably require help from such minions as Plasmius. And so Aragon was determined to find the staff of his king.

"Here!" he pointed at the seventh door – fourth on the left. From his mouth came a blast of white-hot flame, and the barrier to the room was disintegrated. Inside sat the robed spirit from before, but neither the samurai nor the staff were with him. His only companion was the smoke from the lost door, which carried an odd blue tint to it.

"Yes?" the robed ghost asked calmly, raising an eyebrow.

"You have the staff of Lord Pariah Dark!" Aragon hissed. "Where is it?"

"And where…" Plasmius began, but cut himself off. Aragon soon saw why. The tinge of blue within the smoke quickly separated, and began travelling of its own accord as vapour. It quickly slipped down the hall and towards the ballroom, becoming lost amongst the crowd.

Plasmius dashed after the mist, and Aragon, after giving a nasty sneer to the ghost within the room, followed.

---

Danny was happy. Truly, sincerely happy. For the first time since Clockwork had told him of _Tá eagla orm_, he was fully caught up in something else, something enjoyable. The music was genuinely fun, and he liked dancing with Sam. She was lovely at it, and she looked lovely in her formal wear. Her hair had become slightly dishevelled from the festivities, and she was clearly as enwrapped in the music as Danny was. They were holding each other close as they danced, much closer than they had back at the school dance when they had first encountered the Aragon family.

That dance seemed so long ago, with all that had happened since. Not the least of which was the incident with Ember. Though the rocker ghost's spell had long worn off, ever since then, Danny found himself noticing more and more often – Sam was really a beautiful girl in all respects.

As they danced, so did Danny's thoughts, and his expression apparently was showing it, for Sam started to blush. Danny felt his face grew hot as they moved even closer together.

They found themselves both relieved and a bit upset when Tucker called out to them.

Danny struggled not to burst with laughter at what he saw. Tucker was being held by an old smelly hag, who was dancing much faster than the tempo of the music suggested. She was also spinning him too quickly. In fact, she began to go so fast that he slipped right out of her grip, leaving him stumbling along and crashing into the pillar that Danny and Sam were near.

"Nice date, Tuck," Danny chuckled, unable to restrain himself anymore. He and Sam stopped their dancing to help Tucker to his feet. The second he was able to stand, he grabbed Danny by the collar of his jacket, a grave expression etched deeply into his face.

"Dude, we've got a problem," he said urgently. "I just saw…"

"Danny!" the trio all turned together towards the voice, and they saw Katou coming towards them. In his hand was a sceptre with the top covered in black cloth. Danny was about to berate him for taking so long when he saw that the samurai's face was as nervous as Tucker's.

"We need to leave now," Katou said, taking his sword back from Tucker.

"What?" Danny began.

"_Now_!" Katou barked. The ferocity of his voice caught the trio off-guard, and Danny felt himself growing nervous once more. What could make the usually gentle Katou so distraught?

He scarcely noticed the ending of the song, but the immense explosion and the screams that followed it had him whirling around.

The entire orchestra – every last member – had been reduced to a large cloud of billowing green smoke, and a thick but straight line was missing from the attendees of the ball. That crowd was now in a panic, with many scrambling towards the door, flying upwards and blowing holes in the ceiling, or flooding down the hallways of the mansion, trying to find an escape.

Amidst all the chaos, it was still easy to spot the catalyst, as no one dared approach him. It was a ghost clad in an opera cloak, with one smoking hand outstretched, flaming hair, and a sneer that would send Satan fleeing back to Hell.

Danny's knees buckled beneath him, and his eyes grew wide with shock.

"_No_…" he whispered. "No way…"

"Danny, get up!" Katou growled, but Danny scarcely heard him. His eyes were fixed straight ahead at the sight of what was once his future.

_How_?

Phantom let out the most wicked of laughs, and with a grand sweep of his arms, prepared another ecto-blast, and Danny felt himself awakened. He needed answers, and ghosts needed saving. He sprung to his feet and launched himself forward, ramming into Phantom with full force. The wicked spectre fell against a pillar across the room, but recovered quickly, continuing to flash his evil grin.

"Danny," he drawled, his voice glacial. "Nice to see you."

"What are you doing here!?" Danny yelled, firing off an ecto-blast as he did so. "I never cheated on that test. I shouldn't turn into you anymore!"

"You don't," Phantom said as he deflected the blast. "At least, you don't turn into me from that test. Clockwork's meddling let you 'set things right,'" he rolled his eyes at that. "But you already caught me in a Fenton Thermos before he did that, and he took me away before he re-set time. I'm not in time anymore." Danny shot another blast, and Phantom blocked it again.

"Oh, and by the way," he snidely added. "That means I don't have to keep you alive anymore." His eyes lit up, and green rods leapt out from them and met with Danny's chest.

---

Katou looked on as his apprentice was hit by the twin eye beams and fell to the floor with a thud. The cloak-clad spectre seemed to pounce forward like a tiger, roaring with pure evil, when Danny managed to roll to the side, jump up, and kick the wicked ghost in the face. The two fought on, and Katou, a bit in shock, took it in. From the combatants' exchange earlier, the samurai had roughly inferred their relationship – Danny once had the chance to turn into this creature, and the affair that stopped that was what led Clockwork to trust Danny and make him his ward.

And if Danny had indeed managed to change his fate so drastically, then Katou was now more firmly than ever convinced of Clockwork's choice.

He reached down for his sword to help when he saw Plasmius and Aragon emerge from the hallway. Their heads turned towards the two-man war before them, and they appeared not to have noticed Katou standing with Sam and Tucker. Yet all it would take was a turn of the head from Plasmius in order for the traitor to put two and two together.

Katou cursed himself for the third time that night. _Why!?_

He looked from his former apprentice to his current one, and back again. He looked to Sam and Tucker, whose eyes had not drifted from their friend. He went to and from his students again.

He let go of the handle of his blade.

_I'm sorry, Danny_.

He grabbed Sam and Tucker by the shoulders, and soon they had all been moved to the roof of the mansion.

"Stay here," he commanded, throwing the staff at them. He teleported back down, giving the children no time to reply.

He did, however, catch the incredulous look that Sam was giving him.

Again the samurai stood in the ballroom, where Danny still warred against himself. The last of the crowd was fleeing, and Katou joined them – making sure to cross the vision of Plasmius. As he ran down the hall, he turned to see the nosferatu and his royal companion following him. He waited until he was sure that Danny would be out of sight before turning, drawing his sword, and letting loose a sharp wave of green ecto-energy.

Plasmius flipped over the wave and thrust his hand forward, a red ecto-blast leaping from it. The samurai ducked and came forward, sword raised and a green ecto-shield materialising on his arm. Plasmius put up a red shield, blocking each swing of the samurai's blade and trying to get a blast in. Aragon, his amulet glowing, let out several blasts of fire. Katou managed to dodge all advances from his adversaries, but he knew he was in an uphill battle. He knew he couldn't defeat Plasmius, especially after eight years, and his green ecto-shield couldn't withstand the blood red of the half-ghost for long.

They had retreated far down the hallway, and Plasmius finally broke through Katou's shield, knocking the samurai off his feet. Katou narrowly escape a blast of Aragon's flames and leapt back up again, sliding between his two combatants and throwing a large ecto-blast into the floor as he did so. A thick blanket of green smoke flew up, blinding Plasmius and the prince. Katou used the opportunity to flee back down towards the ballroom – and Danny.

---

Danny gripped his side. He had just been tossed into a pillar, and he had felt something in his ribcage snap. And that was only the greatest of many pains that had come over his form.

Phantom very clearly did not need to keep Danny alive anymore, and was enjoying drawing out the infliction of wounds upon his former self.

The wicked spectre hovered before Danny, a manic smile plastered all over his face. He very well could have been mad, he looked so far gone in sadistic joy. Danny grimaced back as he struggled to remain in the air. He wished very much that he could trap Phantom inside a Fenton Thermos and see to it that it was locked forever, but he had no trap, and knew that he wasn't a match for his future self. He had no element of surprise either – Phantom had started this battle, he knew that Danny had gained the Ghostly Wail, and he no longer had to worry about time.

"Getting tired, Danny?" Phantom crowed. The ghost-boy struggled for a response when he saw where Phantom was hovering – directly under the chandelier.

He smiled. "I'm just getting started." Danny let go of his side and inhaled deeply. From out his throat poured the haunting and pulsating waves of the Ghostly Wail. The entire mansion seemed to tremble and shake at the rhythm of the cry. Phantom was pushed backward at first, but managed to stall long enough to encase himself in an ecto-dome, around which the waves passed without effect.

"Oh, please," the future ghost fleered. He too breathed in as a small hole in the dome appeared over his mouth. He let loose his own wailing. As the two forces collided and ricocheted off one another, great pulses rattled the mansion. The ceiling, already full of holes from escape attempts, began crumbling, and cracks and crevices appeared in the pillars and the marble floor. The building seemed to bend, loud groans and unsettling booms sounding all around. All the while Danny kept his eyes upon the chandelier as it shook and swung around violently. Its support loosened with each wave from the wails, and the piece inched further and further downward. The waves continued rocking the old house. At last, the support snapped, and Phantom's dome was broken by the unexpected crushing weight of the chandelier bearing down upon him. His wail stopped, and seeing that his plan had succeeded, Danny ended his cry too. As always, the attack had drained him of his energies, and, becoming Danny Fenton once more, he fell towards the floor of the ballroom.

Out through the corner of his eye he saw Katou flying out of a hallway. Danny briefly wondered where the samurai had disappeared to, but the strain of the wail and his other injuries began to take their toll. His vision clouded, and he barely felt Katou taking hold of his hand before all went black.

---

The chandelier glowed neon green for a few moments, then shattered into a thousand pieces, each one spiralling across the ballroom in all directions. Phantom quickly rose to his feet from beneath the rubble, shaking specks of metal and glass off of his cloak and looking about for his former self. The little runt was nowhere in sight, and Phantom took out his frustration on the nearest pillar, blowing it to pieces with an ecto-blast and letting even more of the ceiling cave in.

Plasmius and Aragon came running up from a nearby hallway, which only soured Phantom's mood.

"Where is he?" Aragon snarled at Phantom.

"Danny flew the coop," he drolly replied.

"Not the child! The samurai with the sceptre! Where is he!?"

"How should I know?" Phantom shot back. "I was busy."

"Busy making a fool of yourself by wasting time on worthless destruction when you should be aiding in the search for Lord Pariah's relics!"

Phantom raised a glowing hand. "Well then, how about I…"

"Enough!" Plasmius barked, loud enough to gain the centre of attention. "Katou is gone, true, but now that he has the sceptre, it will be easier to find than before."

"That doesn't change the fact that we don't have it!" Aragon hissed.

Plasmius smiled. "Ah, but now it is in the hands of a ghost that _isn't_ impossible to find. And you don't know Katou like I do. He is like a candle, the better half burnt out. It would be most easy to overcome him and take back the sceptre."

A beeping noise began echoing across the ballroom, and Plasmius rolled up the sleeve of his evening wear to turn it off on his watch – and see the message that the noise signalled.

His grin grew wider. "The Knight has found the map to the balance," the half-ghost declared. "He's on his way now. And Skulker is still on the trail of the bow."

"…Very well," Aragon conceded. "But for your sake I hope you can find this samurai of yours! And you!"

The prince turned his attentions back to Phantom, who had largely lost interest in the conversation. In fact, he was using ecto-beams from his eyes to slowly melt part of the chandelier to fend off boredom. But he stopped, and made a greatly exaggerated ninety-degree turn of his head to face Aragon.

"You will come with us on the quests for the bow and the balance, and you will use your abilities to help, for once!" Aragon commanded.

Phantom gave a half-laugh, half-cough. Who did this "prince" think he was? "Or, I could…"

Aragon cut him off. "Do you wish to live?"

His voice carried enough menace for Phantom to look down at the spot of his suit where Pariah's Mark remained. And he was forced to admit that he had yet to find a way out.

"You win," he shrugged. "But don't get in my way," his wicked grin slid back across his face. "Pariah never said I couldn't waste you." He watched in delight as Aragon grunted, but backed away a few steps.

"So," Phantom said as he straightened his form and turning to face Plasmius, "where is this balance?"


	7. A New Plan

"You OK, Sam?" Tucker asked.

Sam didn't even turn to face her friend as she continued the same back-and-forth pacing she had been doing ever since they had returned to Katou's home. She had let her hair down and had thrown her shoes against the wall.

No, she was not OK, and the look she threw at Tucker made that perfectly clear.

When she and her friends had been told that the truce of the ball had been lifted, she had begun to lose confidence. But Katou had told them that things would be fine, and he seemed fairly sure. And she trusted him, despite the fact that he seemed a bit uncomfortable with training Danny at times. Clockwork himself had chosen the samurai to train Danny, and Sam knew of no way that an insidious plot against Danny could get around the Master of Time.

So, into the ball they had gone. And what happened?

Danny lay unconscious on the floor, a thick blanket under his body and a soft pillow supporting his head. In human form, his shirt had been removed and his sides bandaged, due to the broken rib he had received. His body was littered with bruises. Katou was bent over him, waving a stick with a gourd over the ghost-boy's form. Pariah's sceptre lay propped up against the wall, but Sam found herself hard-pressed to care. Katou was supposed to be watching over Danny, and Danny was the one who was supposed to save the world from _Tá eagla orm_. Katou should have helped him, not leave Tucker and she on the roof and go off to make sure they got away with the sceptre! Dark Danny was also free, and nothing was done about him.

Katou had taken them to this ball, told them it was safe, and hadn't been able to stop Danny from getting hurt. What kind of samurai was he?

Sam finally stopped pacing and turned to face Katou, glaring at him with such anger that no words could match it.

The samurai lowered his head. "I…made a mistake," he conceded with a sigh. "There was a danger, I let you and Danny stay…I'm sorry."

The concession failed to pierce Sam's anger. "Danny's hurt!" she yelled, pointing at her best friend. "The jerk he used to turn into from the future is back!"

"I know, Sam," Katou said, sounding slightly hurt. "I…I know. And I'm sorry." He sighed yet again. "It's not the first time I've failed an apprentice. But…I think I know where to go from here. Forgive me."

Sam kept glaring at Katou, her hands on her hips. The old man's head remained bowed. He couldn't meet Sam's gaze. His eyes looked more solemn than usual. His shoulders were lowered. He looked utterly defeated.

Sam let her own shoulders slump. Why did every single one of her friends have to be so hard to stay mad at?

"Fine," she sighed. "Is Danny gonna be alright?"

"He'll be fine," Katou said. "I just need to give him a bit of green powder from this gourd." He removed the fruit from the end of his stick and broke it open over his knee. He took the bandages from Danny's side and dashed the powder from the gourd onto the spot where the broken rib rested. The boy came to with a stir.

"Wha…Katou?" he asked weakly.

"It's alright, Danny," Katou said with a soft smile. He helped the ghost-boy to slowly sit up. "You're safe. And we've got the sceptre."

"Great," Danny moaned, placing a hand on his head. "The sceptre…wait…Katou, that ghost! He's me from the future! …And by the way, I can explain –"

"I think I've figured out his story," Katou interrupted. "Think nothing of it. Now, I don't know what he was doing there, but Plasmius and Aragon were also at the ball…"

"_What_?" Danny yelped, now wide awake.

"You think you could have told us that?" Sam added.

"Yeah!" Tucker piped.

"I had no time!" Katou threw back, clearly upset at the barrage. "I needed to distract them so that we could get away with the sceptre. I know that doesn't excuse bringing you all into danger for the first place, but that's why I wasn't around to help Danny. And I'm sorry, Danny."

"Wait…" Sam said, thinking back. "Vlad and Aragon would have been after one of the relics…but what was Danny's jerky self doing there?"

She considered what had happened at the ball. Besides the opera cloak, there had been something different about the way Phantom looked. She hadn't been able to put her finger on it. Now, as she forced herself to visualise the monster as he duelled Danny, she saw red where Danny's white emblem should have been.

"Katou, didn't Dora and Clockwork say something about 'Pariah's Mark' when they told us about _Tá eagla orm_?"

The samurai looked as though he had just been slapped in the face. "Of course," he said, slightly dazed. "Yes, yes…he had it on his chest. Somehow, Pariah enslaved your future self."

"And Clockwork warned us about that!" Tucker added. "Remember? He said that the third ghost in _Tá eagla orm_ would show up later!"

"I thought he was looking at me kind of funny," Danny said. "I didn't know he meant that."

"But why would your jerky, pus-packed future self want to work for Pariah?" Tucker mused.

"Beats me," Danny sighed, shuddering slightly. He shook his head, and sat up further. "Wish we had time to figure that out, but we don't. We've got the sceptre. Which relic do we go after now?"

Sam couldn't believe her ears. Danny had just been knocked out by his evil self, spent half a night terrified, and was still unsure about everything that had been placed on him…and now, when he was battered and bruised, he was rising up and prepared to press onward, despite everything else.

Was he _insane_!?

"Danny, you just got your ribs crushed!" she exclaimed. "You need rest!"

"And I would agree with that," Katou said. "Danny, it's time we divert all our focus to your training. Until significant progress is made there, we will not be going after any more artefacts."

"What?" Tucker piped. "Dude, you can't just train Danny all day! Pariah will get all his stuff back! You said you knew where the balance was, and Plasmius knows where it is too! If we just stay here and practice, then – "

"Then Plasmius and his fellows will capture the rest of the artefacts," Katou finished. "I know. But there are two relics that they will not capture – the sceptre and the pendent."

"But –"

"Tucker, none of Pariah's minions know that I'm with the three of you. None of them saw us together at the ball. As far as they know, I have the sceptre and I'm hiding somewhere in the depths of The Ghost Zone. As to the pendant…any trail they find on that will end with Clockwork, and he can't tell them who he gave it to. Even if he could, he never would. As long as we hold on to those, their quest will be incomplete."

Danny cut in. "But if we wait, then they'll stash all the relics away, and we'll have to fight Plasmius, Aragon, the Fright Knight, and my evil self to get them!"

"But they will be unprepared, and you will be trained." Katou countered.

"Pariah's artefacts call to him!" Tucker countered.

"Only the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage can do that," Katou reminded him.

The samurai let out a long and heavy sigh. "Look…I know I made a mistake this night concerning the ball, and I know it's hard to do nothing when situations like this emerge. But this seems the path to take. And this is something that Danny has to learn – when to attack, and when to pull back and re-group. After tonight, I don't think we should rush out again."

"Great plan," Danny said, his voice filled to the brim with sarcasm. "Except I'm the one who has to do it, and you're all talking like I'm not in the room!"

"Sorry, Danny," Katou said with a bow. "What do you think?"

Danny sighed, slowly falling back onto the blanket. All the while Sam watched his eyes, and let years of friendship interpret.

He was thinking that, on the one hand, they really needed the artefacts…but he was tired, he didn't feel ready, and going after the relics meant facing three of his worst enemies.

"Training sounds pretty good right about now," he breathed out.

Sam concurred. "That's sounds like the better way to go."

"I guess," Tucker shrugged.

Katou gave the trio a soft smile. "Very well. Come by after school tomorrow and we shall begin. Danny, your ribs should be fine. Just get a good night's rest."

The samurai helped Danny to his feet, and Sam and Tucker came to the ghost-boy's side. The three headed up the stairs to depart, tired but reassured. Hard though it was to think of Pariah's forces becoming so far ahead in the race to the relics, it was true that Danny needed training and that their two artefacts were safe.

Sam was the last in line to the stairs, and she was far enough behind to catch Katou moving out of the corner of her eye. She remained behind long enough to watch him cross over to the far side of the room and lean against the wall, his back to her.

"You old fool," he muttered to himself, over and over again.


	8. Training, Part I

Danny sat bent over a writing desk with a calligraphy brush in his hand, a bottle of India ink to his right, and a piece of rice paper and a scroll of _kanji_ before him. His hand shook slightly as he secured his pencil-like grip and dipped the tip of his tool into the inkwell and set it down upon the paper once more. He had just begun to move the brush downward when sweat and nerves let it slip from his grasp, leaving a long black smear across the paper that made the total number of such marks reach thirty-two.

"Dangit!" the boy cried out, slamming his head down onto the desk. Too late did he realise that this meant putting his skin against the fresh blotches of ink that lay on the table, and as he slowly lifted his head back up, the paper remained attached to his forehead. He peeled it away, reavling two large marks over his eyes.

Sam and Tucker stood with Katou at the other end of the room, watching. They couldn't help but smile at their friend's appearance.

"Look at it this way: if stopping the end of the world doesn't work out, you can be a make-up artist for goths," Sam quipped.

Danny groaned, sinking back into his chair. He had been at this for three hours straight. He was working with regular script, the simplest of fonts for this sort of writing. He had been shown the proper way to sit, the proper way to hold the brush, the proper way to keep the paper steady, and the proper way to move his hand. Every single time his hand had shook, he had held the pen the wrong way, and in place of beautiful _kanji_ a black blob appeared.

At first, Katou had stepped in to correct Danny's technique when this occurred. But, after repeated attempts with no sign that his notes were having an effect, the samurai had stayed by the wall with Tucker and Sam, looking at his pupil with eyes full of pity.

Danny was trying. He really was! He knew what he was doing wrong and kept telling himself to correct it. But no matter how hard he tried, he just could not focus. So much was in his mind. His rib, though healed, still pained him. Lancer had given out a substantial amount of homework, his parents were on his case about chores, and Dash was acting up again. His best friends were standing just a few feet behind him, watching him fail. Learning calligraphy hardly seemed like an appropriate way to train for _Tá eagla orm_, no matter what Katou said.

More than anything else, though, he was still too nervous to think straight.

"I give up," he sighed. "I give up! There's no way I'm going to get this!" He sank down lower in his chair, crossing his arms in a sulk. He really felt like he meant it this time. He couldn't write this language, and he couldn't get the message that Katou intended it to have.

Danny expected to hear Sam and Tucker offer some words of encourgement, but instead he heard Katou addressing them.

"Would you two mind stepping out of the room for just a minute?" he asked.

"Huh? Why?" was Tucker's response.

"Please. I'd like a word with him."

After a beat, Danny heard his friends begin to depart. Footsteps became fainter as they passed up the stairs, and in a moment, Katou sat beside Danny, having created a green ecto-chair. The samurai stared at the wall before him, not looking down at his pupil.

They sat side by side, not speaking. In this silence, it occurred to Danny that he and his instructor had not been alone once since Katou had come into his life. At least one of his friends had always accompanied them. Because of that, Katou had never really seemed to be fully "there." He was just another ghost involved in their lives. With neither of his two companions around, Danny really felt Katou's presence. He seemed an actual member of the group.

"You're nervous," Katou said simply, breaking the calm. There was nothing to add, and no need to respond.

Katou sighed. "As am I."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "You?"

The samurai nodded. "As a young man in feudal Japan, I learned my arts well. I followed my master faithfully, and performed my duties well. But once, when I had become a true samurai, a man I once called friend began to behave dishonourably. I say again he was my friend; I could not betray him in time to stop his actions.

"Later, I entered The Ghost Zone and helped found the Order of Afterlife. The fall of that body could have been prevented. The signs of twilight were made clear long before our end. And I was the one who saw them all. But the ghost who eventually did us in was…was…"

Danny's worn expression softened as he saw Katou hesitate. The choke in his throat could be strongly felt, and pain seeped from his one eye. Suddenly, Danny's own frustrations seemed so petty. What had this ghost gone through?

"…was someone I knew," Katou let out with a shaking breath. "And again, I could not bring myself to speak against him. At least, not in time to save the Order. And, when they fell…I was the last of the Order. I had to face the…the ghost. And, when I did…" the samurai's eye began to glisten. "He…he gave me these scars, and turned me over to Walker, rather than let me go on to the next plane and attempt to restore my honour."

With a sigh Katou leaned forward, shutting his one eye tight and putting a hand to his brow. Danny looked on, looking as though he'd been hit in the face with a weight.

"I'm…I'm sorry," he offered, putting a hand on Katou's shoulder.

The samurai gulped, and soon regained his composure. "As I said when we met, it's in the past. The point is this; I hesitate, a flaw of age. You, on the other hand, can be impatient, a flaw of youth. And we both have uncertainty, an affliction common to all. These weaknesses haunt us, and in the process feed themselves. We don't trust ourselves fully to the tasks assigned us." Katou let out a slight chuckle and smiled, finally turning to look his apprentice in the eye. "And yet here we are, chosen by the Master of Time himself to prevent the end of the world. It is too late to challenge his decision, and we've already become involved. What can we do?"

His smile was infectious, and Danny found himself letting out a slight chuckle. Indeed, he was right. Why worry so much about a choice made that could not be taken back?

"Now, besides that, what troubles you about this?" Katou asked.

"It's just…Katou, I'm gonna have to fight the Fright Knight, Aragon, Plasmius, my evil self, and Pariah. Learning how to write all of this really seems like a waste of time."

"Were we focusing on the _kanji_ alone, you would be right," Katou nodded. "But as I have explained, the calligraphy itself is not important. Concentration, patience, and detail are what you should be coming away with from this. And think, Danny. How much of your focus is needed for _kanji_ as opposed to your lettering system?"

The point began to come through. "OK," Danny conceded, smiling again.

"Anything else?" the sage inquired.

"Well…Sam and Tuck watching me mess up wasn't helping, but they're gone…but I've got a ton of homework, and my parents are on my case again, and my ribs still hurt –"

"I understand the problems you face in balancing two lives," Katou interrupted, putting a warm hand on Danny's shoulder. "But you must look at the larger picture. That work you have for school needs to be done, and if this business with _Tá eagla orm_ stops you from completing that work, then your teacher will not understand. But look at it through his eyes. He doesn't know what you do, and it is his job to make sure you finish your schooling. He will give you opportunities to do other work, and you can keep up if you balance your time. As to your parents…again, they don't know what you face. Your sister knows of your secret and is willing to help you; ask her to help with your chores. But don't abuse that power, because if you do, you're on your own, and all I'll have to say is that I warned you."

Master and apprentice shared a laugh, and Danny felt all of his tensions slipping away. His muscles were relaxed, and his mind felt clearer than it had in days. He felt capable. He felt prepared. He felt…_confident_. And this training finally seemed to make sense.

Katou seemed to sense the change. "Ready to try again?" he offered. Danny nodded. "Good. Let's try this one," the samurai pointed to one _kanji_ towards the bottom of the scroll. "_Umi_," he read. "'The sea.' Whenever you wish to begin, Danny."

The ghost-boy inhaled through his nose, and let the breath out slowly through his mouth. With it went all distractions. He sat up straight and planted his feet firmly on the floor. His hand took the brush and gripped it as Katou had shown him to. He waited until his posture felt natural, and then straightened out his rice paper and dipped his pen into the inkwell. The tip came down upon the paper, moving smoothly across and leaving an elegant black line. Danny kept his eyes on his work, not looking up once. Steadily he moved the brush up and down, crossing lines as needed. He made sure not to go to quickly or to apply too much pressure.

A minute and a half were taken, but he finished. Slowly he set the pen down. He looked up.

There was the _kanji_ on the scroll before him…and, on his paper, was the very same character, perfectly formed.

Danny looked back and forth several times, to assure himself that his eyes told the truth. Outwardly he kept his posture, but he struggled immensely not to transform and somersault in the air.

He had _done it_.

He had really, finally _done it_.

With eyes like a young boy's he looked towards Katou. The master smiled back, placing arm around Danny once more.


	9. Training, Part II

"Well done, Danny," Katou applauded. "Well done, indeed."

Danny smiled, stepped out of his fighting stance, mopped the sweat from his bow, and gave his tutor a respectful bow. He let out a long breath, pulling at his kendo uniform to cool off. He looked over towards the wall where Sam and Tucker were standing. Both were beaming at him.

It had been a month since the night of the ghostly ball. During that time, Danny had handled his training masterfully. From the one _kanji_, he and Katou had continued to work one on one, directing Danny's focus and practising concentration and patience. The ghost-boy took little time in learning all of the characters that his mentor assigned him, and calligraphy soon gave way to _koryu_, though some time had to be spent in rest – Katou's powder had healed Danny's ribs, but the pain and some internal wounds needed to vanish on their own. Learning patience first proved invaluable, as Katou took his sweet time in going over individual aspects of the martial arts one at a time.

First, he had Danny display all of his various ghostly abilities. The boy did so, and earned high praise from the samurai, who said that Danny had come quite far for one who was self-taught. It was decided, then, to focus on honing Danny's powers and merging them with _koryu_, rather than develop new ghost techniques. Day by day Danny was taught the steps, the attacks, and the parries of ancient Japanese martial arts. The training began slowly, going through practices beat by beat. Gradually, speed was added, and Katou began to conjure faceless ghost-figures for Danny to drill with. Eventually, master and pupil waged bouts with one another, and while Danny never managed to defeat the samurai, he progressed enough to hold his own. Ghostly powers were eased into the training as Katou found which _koryu_ techniques best complimented Danny's spectral skills. The resulting blend was quite comfortable for Danny to perform. He had never had this much control over his powers before, and his new physical skill seemed to allow his supernatural energies to flow throughout his form with more grace than before.

Some time was spent with the _katana_ sword, and Danny was given a _kendo_ uniform to use in practice, but Danny was never taught more than the basic steps, cuts, and blocks. Katou's temper grew shorter during the lessons in the blade, and what sounded like disdain laced his voice as he described the techniques. Danny wondered why a samurai would spend so little time and have such a loathing for swordsmanship, and Sam had asked about it once and never received an answer. A deep personal issue seemed the only explanation, and so Danny never pressed the matter.

Today, Katou had been putting Danny through a review, using ghost-figures and energy targets. Everything was covered, from the most basic of ghost techniques to the most advanced steps of _koryu_. The ghost-boy had passed with flying colours.

"You've learned your steps well," Katou said as he returned Danny's bow. "Now, I should like to test your skills in a match."

The samurai drew his sword from his robes and set it aside. He stepped to face Danny, moving into a fighting stance. Danny grinned, and adopted a similar pose. He was feeling confident. Maybe today he'd actually trump his trainer.

As he did every time they sparred, Katou stepped back into a defensive position, giving Danny the right to attack. He did so, combining a leaping kick with a sharp wave of ghost-energy. A whirling block from Katou produced an ecto-shield, disintegrating the blast. The samurai flew forward, twin ecto-beams coming from his eyes. Danny opened a hole in his head, letting the blasts fly through. But as he reassembled the top of his body and prepared to strike back, Katou teleported.

"Nice try, Katou," Danny called out. He had been caught by this move several times before, but he knew better by now. He jumped straight up and took flight towards the ceiling. As he looked down, he saw Katou reassemble, throwing a glowing fist at the spot where the back of Danny's head had just been.

Katou looked up at his pupil, beaming. "Very good," he nodded. "You're learning."

Danny smirked and flew down, a green glow surrounding his feet. Katou moved off to the side, and the energy caused Danny to bounce up as his feet made contact with the ground. He flipped over in the air as Katou vanished again, and landed on the far-left side of the room. He watched as Katou materialised, facing the right and glancing around.

Danny's smile grew wider as he silently charged a blast at the tip of his fingers. He whisked around to Katou's left –his blind side. He moved forward, ready to strike.

Katou turned his head just in time to see Danny coming. He threw up a shield, charged a blast far more powerful than anything he had allowed in practice, and sent Danny crashing just left of the door out of the building, falling to the floor in a heap. Danny pulled himself up into a sitting position, shaking his head and leaning against the wall. As he sat, he winced. That had hurt!

He looked up to see Katou float over, standing over Danny with his arms crossed and a dreadful scowl across his face.

"What was that for?" Tucker yelled out, incredulous.

"Yeah! What did I do?" Danny demanded.

"So, you'd attack a blind man in his most vulnerable spot, would you?" Katou hissed out, his breath deadly cold.

"…Well…" Danny started, but he couldn't get any further. That was exactly what he had tried to do. "…We were fighting!" he finally protested. "You really think Plasmius and the Fright Knight aren't gonna try something like that?"

Katou's grimace grew more severe, the lines of his scars twisting into truly horrible expressions. "If your opponent is weak in a certain defence, then to press that is battle strategy," he said, his voice shaking with barely suppressed rage. "If an adversary attempts foul play and you move against it, that is defence and counter-attack. But," he declared his voice now in a full, loud roar, "to take advantage of such handicaps, physical or mental, leaves you no better than Plasmius! He would do that to you? Then that is precisely why you cannot do the same to your opponents! To do what they are willing to do leaves you as dishonourable as they! Surely you would have realised this by now, after all the battles you've faced in your life!"

Katou was shaking with anger, pulling breaths in through clenched teeth. Danny had never seen him so angry before. He tried to think of a defence for himself, but found he could only manage to bow his head in shame. He had realised before, in battles with Plasmius and others, the importance of morals in battle. And Katou may have been strong enough to take that hit, but what if had been some weak ghost like The Box Ghost, that was a mere annoyance and no real threat?

"I…" Danny sighed, unable to finish. He put a hand to his face, hiding his eyes from Katou's. He'd done worse in his time, but that reprimand made him feel lower than he'd ever felt before. Some pick Clockwork had made for the one to stop _Tá eagla orm_.

So great was his surprise when he heard Katou say…

"No…no, I'm sorry, Danny." The voice was full of regret and shame.

The ghost-boy looked up. Intense anger and then immense shame. Was Katou feeling all right today?

"That's all for today," the samurai sighed, covering his face with his hands. "I'll see you tomorrow." He walked over to his sword, put it back in his sash, and walked down to the basement.

Danny stared after him, baffled.

---

Katou threw himself down into a chair in the basement with a heavy sigh. He listened as he heard the trio filing out of the building, shutting the door behind them. Slowly he leaned back in the chair, his head resting against the top of the back of it.

He sighed again and covered his face in shame.

_Why?_

Danny may have needed the lesson about taking advantage of such weakness, but there were far better ways to convey it. Striking him in that way was an act of rank hypocrisy. In the past, he never would have acted that way to such behaviour in training.

If only it were not for Vlad.

Katou had grown very fond of Danny in the time they'd spent together. He was a fine young man, with a strong character and lovely friends. He was not without faults, and he still questioned his role in _Tá eagla orm_. But he was a good boy. He listened, he accepted his training, and yet he was willing to question and disagree. At times he was rude, but in his heart he was kind. In some ways, he reminded Katou of his life as a young pupil before becoming a full-fledged samurai.

And here Katou was, lying to the boy about his past and masking his reasons for his irritation with swordsmanship and breaches of honour.

There was no benefit to hiding the truth at this point. He had Danny's trust – it was best for him to come clean with the truth, than let it be revealed in a less pleasant way that would break their friendship. And Sam was already suspicious of the samurai's past. He'd been over this so many times in his head. It made no sense to continue living a lie.

But the boy's history with Vlad made him hesitate.

Katou reached for a bottle of concentrated blue ectoplasm, materialised a glass, and poured himself a drink. This liquid always calmed his nerves and helped him think.

Unfortunately, this was as much an issue with his heart as with his logic.

---

"I can't believe he blasted you into the wall!" Tucker said, still brooding over Katou's actions.

The trio had assembled at the Nasty Burger for dinner. Danny had changed back into his regular clothes, and they'd not said anything about training on the way here. But once they had sat down and gotten their food, Tucker began to express his irate attitude towards the samurai's actions.

"No," Danny sighed. "He was right. I shouldn't have done that!"

"And he shouldn't blast you into the wall for mistakes!"

Danny sighed again, letting his hair fall over his eyes. "Tuck, it's a big deal for him. He told me this story about how he had two friends, one when he was a samurai and the other when he was a ghost. They both betrayed him. He cares about that kind of stuff," he groaned. "I knew Clockwork picked the wrong kid for this."

"If Katou cares so much, why'd he blast you into the wall?" Tuck shot back.

"What do you think, Sam?" Danny turned towards the goth girl, who gulped down a piece of her veggie burger and thought on what to say.

Sam, too, felt that Katou shouldn't have done that to Danny, although she did see his point about weaknesses. But the blast worried her for other reasons. Katou, despite his nervous attitude, was well in control of his emotions most of the time. The most they'd ever gotten from him was a raised voice for a few words. And yet he still seemed to be hesitant, unsure, and hiding something. The brief glimpses they'd received into his past and his hesitation on names still rankled with Sam. And she still wondered about him and Plasmius both knowing where one of the artefacts was kept.

She still couldn't believe that Katou was against them; Clockwork could never overlook that. But she just didn't know about the samurai anymore.

"Do you guys think Katou's acting a bit…funny?" Sam asked her friends, ignoring Danny's question.

"What do you mean?" Danny asked.

"I dunno. He's just so nervous about all this, and every time we bring up his past, he gets all quiet about it. And – "

She stopped short of bringing up the sceptre. The last thing Danny needed right now was to think that his teacher was involved with Plasmius.

"And…and he just seems sad a lot," she finished, though not as convincingly as she'd hoped to sound. Fortunately, the hesitant tone went over the head of her teenaged boy companions.

"Sam, he's supposed to teach a kid with no idea how to control his powers how to fight to save the world. Of course he's nervous!" Danny said, throwing his hands up.

"And he's old. He's probably got nerves," Tucker shrugged. "Hey…I bet that's why he threw you into the wall!"

Sam sighed. What was the point in trying to get through such thick skulls?

"Forget it," she said. "I just hope we start looking for those artefacts again. If we wait much longer, Plasmius and the others would have picked them all up."

---

The horned yeti fled, abandoning its now useless weapon in the deep snow. While its speed was great, it could hardly stay away from the soaring Knight. The ancient crusader brought the Soul Shredder down in a decisive swipe, striking the beast to the icy ground. Seconds later, it had vanished, condemned to live out its worst fears for time eternal.

The Fright Knight flipped around in the air and landed, making sure to balance his weight in the snow as he surveyed the scene. The hairy beasts were all on the run as Plasmius and several of his hired hands and animal experiments charged forward, firing off the latest in Dalv Corp's spectral weaponry. Up on high, Aragon soared as a dragon, sending down a rain of fire. Phantom remained on the sidelines, occasionally blasting at a pitiful monster that had already thrown down its weapon and begun to retreat. Pariah's servants pressed their attack, destroying weapons and blasting away at the creatures. The rewards were quick in coming. Though the Knight conceded that the yetis were dedicated and capable foes, he and his company had steadily driven the behemoths back, away from the prize that Pariah sought.

When the Knight had first read the map to the balance, he had found himself apprehensive. This frozen region of The Ghost Zone was home to a great civilisation, one of the few that had never fallen to Pariah. But further cryptography did away with his fear. The precise location was uninhabited even by the yetis who ruled this land. It was too cold and harsh even for they – but ideal for placing sacred shrines or hidden treasures.

An ancient temple stood before the conquerors, covered in snow and glaze. With a square base and three great curved towers supported by pillars, the site held all the markings of a once-great shrine: statues and decorations lining the edges of the roof, eroded and faded by exposure to the cold; casings of gold and silver on spires at the tops of the towers, shrouded in ice; and damage to the roof. No doors blocked entry.

Plasmius dismissed his creatures and comrades, and Aragon soared down, returning to his princely state in a spew of fire. The Knight hung his sword on his belt and led the march in. The breaks in the roof allowed faint beams of light to filter down into the temple, but the Knight nevertheless had to use his flaming cloak as a torch.

The interior was a long corridor lined with pillars. At the back, up against the wall and precisely centred, was a beautiful stylised silver statue of Clockwork. He had been imagined with legs, which were here folded as if he were in meditation. Behind him, twelve depictions of his staff pointed to the twelve points of the clock. But this piece, central to the room and grandest site within it, was but one of many fantastic works of art. Every pillar and every wall was covered in paint or tapestry depicting great beasts and histories and legends of times in The Ghost Zone long forgotten. Dragons and lords and ladies and monsters all danced across fine weaving and flew across the painted brick of the building. Clockwork was featured in many of these tales, intervening when the Observants attempted to alter time and awarding opportunities and second chances to great heroes. But one story without the Master of Time on the left wall called to the Knight. In this series of renderings, Pariah rose, was faced by the Ancients, fell, and had his power distributed among the artefacts. In the last brick, the balance was shown being handed by one of the Ancients to a yeti with an icy hand, and being carried into the temple and placed to the left of the silver Time Lord.

The Knight drew his blade and tapped on the bricks above and below that last image with the sword's pommel. Both bricks were solid. He tried the two on the side; both solid. Lastly, he tapped on the one brick itself. The sound clearly echoed down a small chamber and back.

The Knight set his sword on the floor and went to work, carefully feeling the edges of the last brick in the story for a way to remove the front without damage. The temple was still in rather fair condition, but he couldn't be sure if the wrong disturbance couldn't cause a cave-in on the party. But Phantom seemed to have other ideas. No sooner had the Knight found the right corner and begun to tug when the future spectre shoved him aside and thrust his fist forward, shattering the stone into pieces. Behind the façade rested the golden balance of Pariah, with a small flaming crown topping the central beam.

Phantom grabbed the relic from out the hidden chamber and unceremoniously tossed it over his shoulder towards Aragon, who scrambled forward to catch it. The Prince opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead just glared at the devil incredulously.

The Knight shook his head. He neither trusted nor liked the ghost-child's future self, but it was difficult not to pity one who was so clearly digging his own grave.

"Let us return to the Keep," he said. "Plasmius, should we contact Skulker and see how his quest is moving?"

Before an answer could be given, a yeti leapt out from behind Clockwork's depiction, snarling like a beast. It rammed the Knight, taking him off his feet, and grabbed at the Soul Shredder. Raising it high over its head, it lashed out at the Knight, who just rolled to the side. The ancient soldier flipped up on his feet and backed away, dodging every wild swing the crazed creature threw at him as quickly as possible. Still in shock from the attack, he found himself in several close calls, and his flaming cape was once caught in a swipe, leaving its violet glow at the edge of the blade.

The Knight stammered backward, looking for some shield to defend himself. He couldn't get hit with the blade…he _couldn't_…

Crimson collided with the yeti before it could manage another attack, and the beast smashed up against a pillar, dropping the sword. The Knight retrieved his sword, but noticed the glares being thrown at him from the smoky-handed Plasmius and the snippy Prince.

"What was that?" Plasmius asked drolly, arching an eyebrow.

"Cowardice, you fool," Aragon sneered. "The Fright Knight is weak."

"No!" the Knight protested. "I am the Spirit of Halloween! I am no coward! I am merely as endangered by my blade as any other. And, should it strike me, it would be without a master. Any irresponsible fool could claim it as their own."

"I still call it weakness," Aragon said with a sniff. "You fled without attempting any defence and recovery of your blade. Lord Pariah will hear of this."

"Enough," Plasmius sighed as he rolled his eyes.

"Do not dare to speak to me in – " Aragon began.

" – In such a way. Yes, thank you. But we must be returning to the Keep and checking up on Skulker. Tah."

Plasmius rose into the air and flew out from the front door, not looking back once to see if he were being followed. Throwing the Knight one more glare, Aragon followed suit. The Knight sighed and sheathed his blade. Perhaps he had begun to panic and not thought to mount a defence. But the Soul Shredder was a great burden to carry. He would plead his case to Pariah should he be accused of cowardice. While that tactic often failed, once in a blue moon he managed to win the king's favour. He too flew out of the ancient temple.

He and his comrades all failed to notice the covetous look and hungry mouth that had appeared on Phantom's face from the moment he had heard what could become of the Soul Shredder, should the Knight lose control of it.


	10. To the Ruins

Sam put a palm to her forehead, trying to ease her headache as she quickly moved down the street towards the "Sasaki" School of Koryu. School had just let out, and the trio were due at Katou's. Yet Tucker had heard that a new Crimson Chin game had premiered at the arcade, and managed to wear Danny down into going there with him – leaving Sam to excuse their tardiness with Katou.

Sam sighed. One of these days…

She entered Katou's abode and travelled down the stairs to find him seated on the floor, looking up at the television that Sam had brought him. He hadn't asked for it, but Sam had told him of the samurai films of Akira Kurosawa and suggested that he might enjoy them, and so she brought the spirit this set last week, along with five of the director's movies. Katou had told her yesterday that he had watched two of them and enjoyed them very much. Now, Sam saw the old sage watching Seven Samurai. He was certainly invested in the story – his gaze was firmly fixed on the screen, with his hands folded in his lap.

And yet, his eyes were…glassy.

"Katou?" Sam called. The samurai blinked and turned around.

"Oh – Sam," he rose and bowed. "I didn't hear you come in."

Sam returned the bow. "So, you're on Seven Samurai, huh?"

"Yes," Katou looked back towards the screen. "A very intriguing tale.

"And," he sighed, "familiar."

"I heard it was based on a real legend," Sam offered, curious. Was she finally going to hear something about Katou's past?

"More than a legend," the samurai answered. "A true-life account."

"This actually happened?"

Katou nodded. "Certain liberties have been taken here. The old master here was a daimyo lord, not a ronin off on his own. And the rest of the samurai served under him."

"Wow," Sam smiled. "Did you know the samurai who got hired by the village?"

"Know them?"

Katou looked back towards Sam. The sad gleam in his eyes had grown, and he looked even more worn than usual. He nodded towards the screen. "That young boy who enters the training of the old master and becomes the fifth samurai?"

Sam stared at him for a moment, and then put a hand to her mouth.

"That was you?"

Katou nodded. "It's been so long since I've thought of those days. Losing four friends isn't an event I wish to dwell over."

"So…this happened to you…and the Order…and getting caught by Walker?"

Katou bowed his head. Sam thought she heard him choke down a sob. Seeing him in such pain made her eyes carry pity, and she didn't wish to cause him more angst. But the old warrior was finally speaking of his past. Later on, that willingness could vanish.

"Is that why you won't tell us more about your past and Tá eagla orm?" she asked, hoping it wouldn't cause too much trouble for him.

Katou bowed his head lower and sighed a long sigh. Sam lowered her own head shamefully. Now wasn't the time for this. But, when would the time be?

"You're a clever girl, Samantha," Katou finally said, raising his head. His eyes were no longer glassy, but his face was even more drawn. "And you're right – I haven't been completely honest, with any of you. I wish I were. But I can't be."

"Why?"

"…I can't say."

"Why?" Sam asked again, stepping over towards Katou.

"Sam, believe me – I wish I had it in me. But I can be truthful in this – my intentions are honourable. Once this business with Tá eagla orm is finished, what I can't tell you won't matter."

Sam put her hands on her hips. She wasn't going to press the matter any further – Katou didn't deserve that. But she still didn't like the non-answer she had just received.

A loud crash upstairs and muffled words between Danny and Tucker's voiced redirected both their attentions as the two boys charged down the stairs, both looking rather worried.

"Sorry we're late, Katou," Danny stammered. "We would have been here sooner but somebody made us late!"

"You wanted to play the game too!" Tucker protested.

"Relax, boys," Katou chuckled. "We won't be training today."

"We won't?" all three children asked together.

Katou drew from behind him his map of The Ghost Zone. "For too long we've waited in resuming our search for the relics of Pariah. Danny's recovery and training couldn't be avoided, but now I think it's time to take up the quest again."

"Finally!" Sam yelled.

"With all the training, I kind of forgot about those," Danny said, grinning sheepishly.

"Which ones do we have again?" Tucker asked.

"The sceptre and the pendant," Katou replied, gesturing over towards the two artefacts. "What artefacts Plasmius and the others have recovered, we don't know. But I have a few leads we can follow."

The samurai unrolled the map on the floor and drew his _tantô_ knife. He stuck the blade on top of a _kanji_ character on the map. "This is where the sanctuary of the Order once stood. Inside, the map to the balance may remain."

"Didn't Clockwork say that Plasmius also knows where the balance is?" Sam cut in. She hoped that she hadn't sounded accusing, but Katou looked hurt.

"So he did," Katou sighed. "Plasmius was also said to know the whereabouts of the bow and the chest. There is a chance, however slim, that he has yet to collect the balance. Since that is the strongest lead we have, we will start there. Danny, you and I will be going alone."

"What?" the trio said together, incredulous.

"You are not leaving us out of this," Sam protested.

"Yeah!" Tucker added. "Why should we have to stay behind?"

"Because after what happened when we went to fetch the sceptre, I don't want to endanger your lives. I don't want Danny to be endangered either, but he needs the experience."

"That doesn't mean he has to be by himself," Tucker retorted.

"He won't be by himself – I'll be with him," Katou said.

"We're his best friends. We're not staying behind," Sam said firmly, crossing her arms.

"Katou, let them come," Danny added.

The samurai sighed. "Surely you've let Danny on his own before," he said. "Clockwork showed me – when Pariah was last released –"

"He was fighting the Ghost King then," Tucker dismissed the argument. "He couldn't be worried about us the whole time."

"All we're doing is going to get a map, right?" Danny asked.

"Sam, Tucker – you are not coming, and that's that!" Katou bellowed.

---

"You three have great persuasive powers," Katou grumbled.

It was before the gates of the sanctuary of the Order that the foursome stood – at least, what was left of the gate. Decay and age had sent the walls tumbling down, allowing for a good view of the interior. Blackened ruins littered the enclosure. Aged scars across the ground showed where great blasts of ectoplasm missed their target and where old heroes fell. Swords, bows, arrows, and ecto-guns lay everywhere. Five structures were held within the walls, four in the corners of the sanctuary and one in the centre. All were in decay. The middle building was the most intact; it was easy to see that it was a Chinese palace, though the roof was partially caved in and the statues lining the roof were charred. But the other four constructions were in a total state of disrepair. And damage to the building on the foursome's immediate left looked fresh.

Danny had to wipe sweat from his brow as he looked out upon the ruins. He'd beheld destruction and ruin before; he would never forget the future that Amity Park could have met at his hands. But this was such a total – and clearly planned – waste…

The ghost-boy looked up towards his mentor, and saw tears beginning to glisten in Katou's eyes.

"…We can look around, if you want to wait outside," Danny offered, and nodded towards Sam as she stepped inside the structure towards their left.

"No, no," Katou said in a quick intake. "I'm fine. In any event, we'll be leaving shortly. It appears our efforts were in vain."

"But we just got here," Tucker noted.

"But look at that building," Katou said, pointing to the one on their left. "That was a Renaissance library, where all our records were kept. The map to the balance was in there. Do you notice how recent the damage to the near wall there looks?"

Danny eyed it carefully, and the hole in the wall did look very fresh. And, now that he thought about it, there was a faint burning smell in the air.

Sam's head popped up inside the hole. "The inside's been robbed," she called out. "There's only a few things left."

"Plasmius beat us to it," the ghost-boy sighed.

"I'm afraid so," Katou sighed too. "We'll have to resume the hunt some other way."

"Wait…" Danny said. "Hunt" had him thinking. He slapped his palm up against his brow. "I'm such an idiot!" he yelled, though not angrily. "Tucker, can you still hack into Skulker's system?"

"I dunno," the techno-geek replied. "After we met Skulktech and they talked about the purple-back gorilla override, I just figured he'd need to be close by for me to try. Why?"

"Who is this 'Skulker?'" Katou asked.

"He's a ghost that works for Plasmius," Danny explained. "And he's a hunter. Vlad might have used him to track down the artefacts."

"Hey, yeah!" Tucker smiled. "And if I can hack into his system, then we can look through his database and see if he found any."

"You can also check where the legion of doom's keeping everything," Sam added as she ran over. Danny noticed she had in her hand a scrap of parchment. He was about to ask what it was, but shook his head. There were other matters to worry over.

"Come on – while we're still in The Ghost Zone, see if you can get inside his software," Danny suggested.

"You got it!" Tucker said as he drew out his PDA. The others gathered around him as he went to work, searching his database for his link to Skulker.

None of them noticed that, hidden within the rubble of the decimated library, was a fly-sized camera focused on them bearing the brand "Dalv."

---

Plasmius watched on his video watch, an astonished grin smeared across his face, as Daniel's four-eyed friend attempted to hack into Skulker's armour, the ghost-boy and his little girlfriend nearby; and with them stood Katou. Not apart from them, but among them. They had spoken to him, they appeared on good terms, and it had been indicated that Katou had led them there.

Of course, Plasmius thought. Both Daniel and the samurai had been at the ghostly ball; he should have put two and two together then. As the lights went off within his brain, he could not help but let out a shocked, ironic laugh, not caring that it visibly disturbed the Fright Knight and Prince Aragon, who stood by him in a hall of Pariah's Keep. Phantom was also there, but he didn't appear to care what Plasmius did or why.

"Oh, this is too much!" the half-ghost bellowed, leaning against a pillar for support. "Katou – my old master! – has begun to train young Daniel! Both half-ghosts in existence fall into his hands, and he tutors us both! Oh, how fantastic is that? Knight, bring me the text of Tá eagla orm, please!"

The Knight drew a scrap of parchment from his robes, though a bit hesitantly. Plasmius snatched it away and read over the prophecy line by line, until he found a particular verse. That verse made him laugh even more.

"Oh, wonderful!" he cried. "Simply wonderful!"

"Touching," Aragon snipped. "Now alert Skulker! He must safeguard his information."

"Oh, very well," Plasmius said, wiping away a tear of laughter as he stood erect. "Skulker," he said into his watch, adjusting its frequency.

"I was just about to call you," Skulker said back. "I've found the bow. I'm on my way back to the Keep now."

"Excellent," Plasmius grinned. "But I have a duty for you. Adjust the information in your database. I want it to read that the relics are hidden in my castle. And, when you arrive, move all of the artefacts to my laboratory."

"What?" the hunter, the knight, and the prince all cried together. Even Phantom raised an eyebrow.

"Betrayal!" Aragon cried, thrusting an accusing finger forward. "I suspected such an act!"

"What is this, Plasmius?" the Knight asked.

"Calm yourself, Aragon," Plasmius chuckled. "This is no mutiny. With Pariah's Mark on me, I couldn't very well pull one off, now could I?"

"Then leave the relics here in the Keep!" Aragon bellowed. "It is far safer for them to be here!"

"Indeed," Plasmius said, his grin growing. "But there are two artefacts that we do not yet have, and at least one of them is in the hands of my old teacher and his latest pupil. Katou is clever enough to know not to hide the sceptre in the Fenton's lab or anyplace I'd know about, so we must find a way to track them."

Plasmius could see the lights go off; Aragon understood, but he still didn't agree. "The relics of Lord Pariah are not bait!" he roared.

"Trust me," Plasmius purred. "This will give us much, much more than the sceptre."

You forget that I can read thoughts, my prince, the voice of Pariah said as it came to both their ears.

I know what it is that Plasmius has planned. Why he has not shared it I do not know, but it is a gambit. One I will allow to occur. But, Plasmius…know that failure here rests on your head alone.

"Thank you, my lord," Plasmius bowed to the air, throwing a mocking smirk at Aragon. "I promise you – none of us will be disappointed."


	11. The Knight Falls

"I'm in Skulker's system," Tucker declared. "And it looks like they have everything except the two relics we've got. They're keeping them in Plasmius's lab in Wisconsin."

"Is anyone there right now?" Danny asked.

"It doesn't say," Tucker said as he shut off his PDA. "That's all he had about it."

"Great. We have to storm Plasmius's castle," Danny sighed, massaging his temples. Couldn't just one part of this be easy?

"We don't have to do anything," Katou said. "I'll go for the relics."

The trio all turned towards him in unison, staring at the samurai as if he had lost his mind.

"What are you, nuts?" Tucker stated what they all thought.

"Plasmius probably has that stuff guarded like the gold at Fort Knox," Danny said.

"And do you even know where his portal is?" Sam asked.

Danny looked over at his female friend. Her tone had been odd, and her gaze towards Katou carried a strange glint. Had they been arguing earlier when he and Tucker arrived? Sam's eyes were not all that suggested that. Katou looked flustered by the question.

"I…" he said, his voice shaking slightly. "In what he showed me, Clockwork…I know where it is, yes."

"OK…" Danny said, though he felt his eyebrow arch. Why was that so hard to say?

"Even if you know where it is, you're probably going to need help getting around whatever security Plasmius would have set up," Tucker said. "Right, Danny?"

"Yeah…" Danny said, though reluctantly. It was true. Katou probably would need help…but did it have to be him? In Vlad's house?

"I wouldn't want to force you to go into your greatest enemy's household," Katou said with a shake of his head. "I'll go alone."

"Weren't you just saying Danny needed 'experience?'" Tucker asked.

"Yes…" Katou said, his tone bothered. Danny could hear his teeth grinding.

"What do you think, Danny?" Sam asked.

"I…" Danny gulped – why? He wondered. "I'll go with Katou."

"Good," Sam smiled. "Then we'll come too."

"What?" Danny and Katou said together.

"Relax," Tucker said with a grin. "We'll just stay by the portal in the Spectre Speeder in case you need us."

Danny sighed again. "Guys, how is this any different from the last time Pariah was out?"

"Pariah's not out yet, if we wait outside we're not a distraction, and this is Plasmius," Sam said simply, ticking off the points one by one on her fingers.

"…Fine," Danny groaned. "But stay in the Spectre Speeder!"

Sam smiled again and nodded before turning to Katou. "That OK with you?" she asked.

Katou still looked grim at the notion. He was gripping the handle of his katana so tightly that it was shaking in its scabbard. Yet he sighed, shut his eyes, and bowed.

---

"Yep," Danny sighed. "That's Vlad's portal."

He and Katou floated side by side. Behind them hovered the Spectre Speeder. And before them was an oversized football, which failed to completely hide the octagonal frame that led to the castle of Vlad Plasmius.

Danny had to put up a slight effort to breathe easily, and he could almost sense Katou's concerns beside him. The fact that his teacher seemed at such unease bothered him immensely, chiefly because he couldn't understand why. Concern for safety couldn't shake a samurai so badly; could it?

Nevertheless, Katou had a vaguely amused expression at the pigskin before him.

"What?" Danny said towards his mentor's look.

"Nothing," the samurai shook his head, though a slight grin remained. "I just don't remember that –" he coughed – though the cough came several moments after a pause, "that being in Clockwork's visions, is all. A bit odd, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" Danny said with a shrug and an arch of the brow. What was wrong with Katou today? "Let's just get this over with."

"Yeah, hurry up," Tucker's voice called through the Fenton Phone in Danny's ear. "Skulker's computer says he's on his way here. And I've missed my four o' clock feeding!"

_Great_, Danny thought. He released a heavy breath as Katou pushed aside the football and pried the doors of the portal open with his blade. Together they stepped past the swirl of energy and onto the marble floor of Plasmius' laboratory.

All lights were down in the lair. Glows from mentor and pupil's hands revealed how tables and chairs, equipment and weapons had been pushed aside and some, evidently, removed. So little remained that echoes sounded out from their footprints across the room in ominous tones. Slowly Danny and Katou increased their lights, and with a squint, Danny saw a glimmer of gold off in the left-hand corner. Moving towards it, the light revealed four objects – a throne, a chest, a balance, and a bow. All were marked somewhere with a flaming crown. Under ghostly light, the thin beams of ecto-lasers surrounding the relics could be seen.

Katou set a hand on Danny's shoulder as their lights combined to fully reveal the artefacts. "All four," the samurai whispered, slight awe in his voice.

"The PDA never lies!" Tucker chirped, causing both the samurai and the ghost-boy to jump and turn their glows into ecto-charges.

"Do you need help moving anything?" Sam asked in a more controlled – and somewhat annoyed – tone.

Danny sighed. This was bad enough without those two arguing. "No," he said softly. "We've got it. You might want to move over, though. One of these is kind of big."

Katou slowly extended his index finger on his other hand, letting the smallest beam of spectral power shoot out towards the beginning point of one of the lasers. All four shut down. "Hurry," the samurai muttered. "I can't hold this forever."

Danny nodded. Taking hold of the balance and bow, he dashed back through the portal. Without saying a word, he phased the objects through the Spectre Speeder and set them on the floor near Sam's feet. Back into the lab he came and seized the chest, and soon after pushed it through the window onto the floor. He leapt back through the portal and laid hands on the throne – and found he could barely move it an inch.

"Oh no," he grunted, trying to pull the chair along. "Katou, can you help me move this thing?"

"Danny, I can't let go of this," Katou said.

"But I can't move it by myself," Danny muttered. As if to illustrate the point, he slipped under the throne while attempting to tug it along.

"Alright," the samurai sighed. Keeping his finger beam directed at the laser, he moved his foot to rest on the opposite side of the throne from Danny.

"You pull," Katou said. "I'll kick."

Danny nodded. He pulled himself up, gripped the back of the chair tightly, and pulled. He felt Katou give a sharp push at the other end, and the throne slid back, though slightly.

"Again," the ghost-boy directed in a loud whisper. They repeated the action, and along the throne moved. But Katou's foot slipped as his kick ended, and he just managed to avoid losing his control over the laser grid.

The sage recovered his ground and put his foot back on the throne. "I've got a better idea," he said. "You keep pulling."

Danny did so, tightening his grip and yanking with all the force he could muster. The marble tiles made it difficult to keep his feet completely still, but he rooted himself to the ground as best he could.

The effort mattered little, however, for he soon saw that Katou had charged spectral power into his kick. Said energy was enough to propel the throne back a ways, and as it travelled, it took Danny with it. He felt the wind knocked from his chest as the chair hit him, and he once again fell under it, and he saw the thing pass over his head, stopping just behind him.

"Are you alright?" Katou asked, running over.

"Swell," Danny coughed. Better not to hurt Katou's feelings than to be honest.

The two looked over towards the lasers. They had managed to clear the throne before Katou's grip was lost. Both let out their relieved sighs, and Katou rested a warm hand on Danny's shoulder. The ghost-boy in turn gave his teacher a slight smile. While neither of them wished to be there, some company was better than none.

The samurai helped the ghost-boy to his feet, and together they managed to lift the throne.

"Well done," Katou said softly. Though Danny said nothing, he intended to return the compliment once they were clear.

"This wasn't too hard," he said, laughing slightly. The two began towards the portal when Tucker's voice began to come through over the Fenton Phones.

"What is that?" he was asking.

"It's a copy of _Tá eagla orm_," Sam said.

"You got a copy of _Tá eagla orm_?" Danny said, stopping. He looked up at Katou, whose face had tightened.

"I thought you said the library was robbed," Tucker noted.

"This was one of the only things left. Plasmius must have his own copy."

"It's not even in English, though!" Tuck complained. "It's more Chinese!"

"This is _katakana_, Tucker," Sam sighed. "And I can read it."

"Oh."

"What's it say?" Danny asked.

Katou coughed. "Is now really the best time to –"

"Katou, what's this verse mean?" Sam asked. "'Tragic pasts of mentors 'round…?'"

Danny looked over at the samurai. Whatever that line meant, it seemed like a detail that would best be said. And, now that he thought about it, for all the time they'd spent discussing _Tá eagla orm_ and Danny's role in it, neither he nor his friends had heard the prophecy – not from Clockwork, from Katou, from anyone.

The samurai released a heavy breath. "I will explain," he said, "when we get back to Amity Park. Now hurry, before –"

Macabre violet lights flashed out from the ceiling, sending the throne to the floor with a crash. Red and amethyst flames ignited on the floor in front of master and pupil, and up shot an armoured form and a devil's shadow.

"Ah…hello, Daniel," Plasmius cooed as his figure solidified.

On instinct Danny readied an ecto-ball and threw it forward, but a red dome encased Plasmius and absorbed the attack.

"So," the nosferatu sneered. "You've invaded my castle, eluded my security, and made off with valuable possessions. Very good, my dear boy. But it seems you've chosen to rob me of four very…" he stepped forward, "_peculiar_ artefacts, hmm?"

"…Yeah," Danny stammered, slipping into a fighting stance as Katou beside him drew his sword. "I…Clockwork asked me to –"

"Oh!" Plasmius cried. "But Clockwork is going through his cycle of death and rebirth, isn't he? And those relics don't deal with him. It's someone else…oh, yes! Those are Lord Pariah Dark's relics, aren't they?"

"I…" Danny gulped. He knew they'd just forfeited one of their few advantages in this quest.

"And what a strange fighting stance you've taken," the elder half-ghost observed. "It looks as though you've been training in more than ghost powers, Daniel. In fact, I'd say it looks as though you had been trained by our friend Katou here."

"Yeah, I – what?"

Danny stepped out of his stance and turned towards Katou. Since when did he and Plasmius know each other?

He waited for a contradiction from the warrior; some proof that Plasmius was lying, that they weren't so familiar.

Instead Katou – quite brazenly – swung his _katana_ at the side of Plasmius's head. The half-ghost merely waved his hand to raise a defensive barrier and refused to lower the shield.

"So you've not told him?" Plasmius said to the samurai, his grin laced with delight. "Oh, come now, Daniel," he chuckled, turning towards the ghost-boy. "Twenty years of experience alone does not create skill. I was taught how to control my powers. And my teacher was none other than _yours_."

_None other than _yours

_None other than _yours

None other than yours.

Nothing Danny could think of drowned the echo of those words.

They continued to sound, pushing aside all senses and thoughts and all but the feeling of betrayal. And that feeling left him disgusted as he felt Katou seize his arm and teleport he and the throne out of the lab and into the Spectre Speeder, and more disgust as the samurai took them out of The Ghost Zone.

---

Plasmius could scarcely pretend not to be overjoyed. The look in Daniel's eyes was just too much. And the way Katou had glared at him; no samurai would ever be proud of such a show of rage. The display from both was delightful.

His own ends were being served quite nicely by this gambit.

"Should we signal Skulker?" he heard the Knight beside him say.

"Yes, thank you," Plasmius sighed, still beaming. "Skulker?" he said into his watch. "Activate the tracking device – but do not follow it yet. Plasmius out."

He could sense the Knight's glare. "Your gambit has me nervous, Plasmius," the warrior bluntly said.

"We need wait but a moment for this stage," Plasmius said. "For now, wait in patience and silence your thoughts."

Easier said than done for him, his unmasking of Katou having gone so well. But for this, he could manage.


	12. We All Fall Down

Danny was still in shock. He knew he had a thunderstruck expression. He had long ago slipped from ghost-form. He had only the slightest awareness of arriving at Katou's lair with the relics. The words of Plasmius continued to ring in his ears.

But he had recovered enough to get angry about it all.

"You…trained…_Plasmius_?" he spat towards Katou.

The samurai looked shaken. "Danny, you don't understa –"

"_You trained Plasmius_!" Danny roared. Rings exploded from around his body, and the shock waves from them shattered a number of the bottles and vases in the basement. The glow in his eyes shone so brightly they appeared aflame. His upper lip curled as would a snarling wolf's, and a low hiss passed through clenched teeth. He could see that Sam and Tucker were shaken by this, but for once in his life, he couldn't care less.

Months.

Months on end.

Almost a _year_.

He had been subjected to Plasmius for nearly an entire year. The elder half-ghost, above all of Danny's other adversaries, came back again and again. He had kidnapped Danny, attacked him, used him in true-life chess plays, and even cloned him. Vlad had overshadowed Danny's father, tried to turn his mother, and pitted him against his sister. The only times Danny had ever been able to gain the upper hand on Plasmius was when the elder ghost was weakened or when Danny had help from outside forces.

And Katou _trained_ him.

And Clockwork – who must have known this – sent Katou to Danny.

"Do you have _any_ idea what Plasmius has done to me!?" Danny yelled, his eyes growing ever brighter.

Katou backed towards the wall. His eyes were pained, and his hands shook. "Vlad was a different man when I knew him," he protested. "We met eighteen years ago. I couldn't have known –"

"I saw Vlad in another future!" Danny shouted. "Nothing changed! He tricked my mom to marry her and was so paranoid about it he kept her from seeing my dad! Don't tell me he never told you about them!"

Katou's eyes spoke for him in that regard. "…You don't understand!" he shot back, voice rising. "He'd been in a hospital for a year and could barely control his powers. He'd stumbled into The Ghost Zone and was about to be killed. I couldn't just leave him to fend for himself!"

Danny scoffed. "Why not? He'd leave you!"

"_He wasn't the same man then_!" Katou roared, his eyes now blazing. "I'd be no better than his present self to have left him to die! And that future you saw was but one! Have you learned nothing from Clockwork?"

"Clockwork sent me the guy who trained Plasmius – how great can he be?"

"Danny," Sam said with a gulp," maybe you should –"

"You think I wanted this?" Katou cut her off. "After what happened to Vlad, do you think I would trust myself with an apprentice? Do you think I have any honour left? _Clockwork_ came to _me_!"

"You could have said 'no!'" Danny growled. "Doesn't he always say you have a choice?"

Katou seemed to deflate. The lines of his face tightened as his voice quieted. "I couldn't leave _Tá eagla orm_ to take place."

"Too late!" Danny barked. "You already taught the guy who's gonna help the Ghost King!"

"Dude, calm down!" Tucker said, jumping between his friend and Katou. "Look – we've got the six pieces, and the legion of doom doesn't know where they –"

"Tucker, do you have any idea what it's like for someone with more money and power than you to come after you and your family over and over and over again?" Danny snapped. "If Plasmius never learned how to control his powers, who knows what would have happened?"

"He would have died!" Katou barked, pushing Tucker aside. "There's more to all this than you can possibly understand. If you can't see that – if you would have left Vlad to fend for himself – you're no better than how he turned out!"

"_I am not like Vlad_!" Danny screamed. The aura along his body lit up like wildfire. "And guess what? I'll prove it – by never coming back here again!"

"_What_?" Sam and Tucker said together.

"Danny, this isn't over," Sam noted. "I know how you feel about Plasmius, but –"

"You're supposed to face _Tá eagla orm_!" Katou cut her off again. "Clockwork –"

"Why should I deal with that just 'cause Clockwork brought it up?" Danny demanded. "He didn't tell me about you and Vlad. Neither did you. And neither of you told us what _Tá eagla orm_ said!"

"Do you think we would have done that without reason?"

"Oh yeah? What reason do you have for not telling me about you and Plasmius!?"

Katou's shoulders sank and his eyes softened. That was all the answer Danny needed. He turned to take off when he felt a hand seize his arm.

"You can't walk away from all this!" Katou growled.

Danny twisted his hand free. He brought it around and pushed it into Katou's chest. But he did not see until Katou had already collapsed against the far wall that an ecto-blast had been in his palm.

The samurai was hurt, but not from the strike. His gaze was towards the floor, wearing a most mournful expression. His breaths seemed to quiver. And his hand had drifted over the thin scar over his right eye.

Katou had never told them where his scars had come from.

Now Danny could see.

His internal fire cooled. He looked down at his hands. He looked up into the eyes of his two best friends, who seemed not to recognise him.

Across his vision flashed the devil's grin of Phantom.

_You're no better than how_ he _turned out._

Shivers raced through his heart, and words failed him. He found no way to deal with this – not now. With a jump he was in the air, and intangibility let him flea.

_Clockwork…what were you thinking?_


	13. Red Moon in Morning

"It seems that Clockwork was mistaken."

Side by side floated the Observants. Their lair was dark and black and formless, expanding in all directions for eternity as an endless void. There were but three objects within this plane; the twins, and their mirror of time. On it was the sight of Danny Phantom flying away from the lair of Katou.

The one seer continued. "The tragedy of the master has divided him from his apprentice."

"As the prophecy foretells," remarked the other. "And now, with Clockwork still not to be reborn for weeks, who is left to act? We cannot break the Oath."

"But this is Tá eagla orm," the first spirit noted. "What are we to do? Summon the Observant High Council?"

"No. We were assigned to represent the council in horology, and that we shall do. We must find a spirit who will act for us."

"But if we do not act, then we can only present the problem. We cannot lead him to the proper course of action."

"But we must give him a task. We cannot simply say that Tá eagla orm is imminent. We must find one who can retrieve the relics and bring them to us! Only then will they be safe, and the prophecy avoided."

"But who to send on the hunt? He must be able to find Katou's home on his own."

The same name reached their minds together, and they turned to face the other.

"He is in the employ of Vlad Plasmius," the second scoffed. "And he is meant to follow the artefacts."

"But he is loyal only because of reward."

"Can we be sure of that?"

"He is a hunter, brother. Such a way of life – like ours – leads one to realise that emotion and compassion are illusions. And he has been with Plasmius only as long as he has been rewarded."

"True. And he fears Pariah. But if he is to perform our task, then we must provide superior compensation." They bowed their heads together, ponderous hands placed at the bottom of their eyes.

"A hunter would value knowledge of when his prey will be at a certain point," the first offered.

---

Against the wall sat the samurai, his trembling hand clenched over the thin scar over his right eye. Slowly he breathed in and out in heavy takes. He felt a rattling in his chest and a quivering on his lips. He was cold. And yet he had no will to warm himself. There was no drive to rise up from where he had fallen nor an urge to pull himself together. All of it felt too heavy, and it all felt well deserved. At the same time, the look in the ghost-boy's eyes when he struck out was all too familiar…and all too painful.

Katou let his head hang low. He refused to let his hand lower. And he refused to turn towards Sam and Tucker.

The girl's voice met his hears first. "Why didn't you – "

"It's as I said!" Katou cried, throwing himself prostrate on the floor. "Vlad wasn't the same man then. And how could I have told Danny? Look at what Vlad's become! How he connects to Danny! What was I to say?"

"So finding out this way is better?" Sam said with contempt as she folded her arms.

"I know!" the sage barked. He pulled himself up and fell against the wall again. "I know," he sighed, shutting his eyes tight. "I know."

"So why didn't you tell us about _Tá eagla orm_?" Tucker asked, though he too sounded bitter.

"For myself," Katou sighed, "I feared the piece that Sam asked about. It connects to Plasmius and myself. But please understand about Clockwork – his reasons are better than mine. He speaks often about how one can choose. How time is a parade seen from above, with all the possible twists and turns. He has never revealed every aspect of a situation to those he comes to. They must discover on their own and make their own decisions. With something like_ Tá eagla orm_, he is doubly careful about revealing the full prophecy. If the players in the drama knew what the script called to happen, they may accept it as inevitable. Sam, you must have read the entire piece by now; you know what it predicts."

The samurai sighed again, long and hard. "And perhaps it is inevitable now."

He could feel the two children glaring at him. He couldn't turn to face them. Again he covered his one good eye with his palm.

Why? 

He sighed once again, preparing to ask the two to leave him. But before he could open his mouth, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to see. It was Tucker's, and he held out his other hand as if to help Katou up.

"Let's go find Danny," he sighed.

"What?" Katou stammered.

"Oh, don't think you're off the hook," Sam said. "But we know this isn't over. And Danny needs to know that too."

Lightness came to Katou's head, and disbelief to his heart. Was this true?

"Well?" Sam asked.

For a brief moment, a slight grin tugged at the corners of Katou's mouth. He took Tucker's hand and rose to his feet.

---

Hours had passed since the samurai had left with the ghost-boy's allies. The lights in the basement had all been put out. A few glows came from the bottles and vases on the table, but the room was largely still and dim. The relics of Pariah were kept in a far corner, all six set together neatly. The seat of the throne held the chest and the bow, and the sceptre was draped atop them, the pendant hanging from its end. On top of the throne rested the balance. The luminescence from a nearby vase allowed the gold of the pieces to just faintly glimmer.

The hunter in the room rubbed his hands together at the sight of them.

Plasmius's tracking device had worked well. He was right at the site. Now, he was to retrieve the relics and destroy the lair.

But Skulker had been approached by two most peculiar beings that had given him an interesting proposition. And now, with the prize in sight, the hunter pondered – who to deliver the goods to?

The ghost was not pleased at all with the notion of Pariah returning to life. And he still wondered just how successful Plasmius and his new Knight would be in carrying out their plans. Yet he found himself reluctant to betray the half-ghost. They'd been partners for years. And while 'friendship' may not have made for the most accurate term to describe their relationship, it had moved beyond the simple mutual needs of employer and worker.

But the Observants offered knowledge of the whereabouts of any prey at any time, forever; Danny Phantom included. Such knowledge Skulker had desired for many a year. And a small delivery aside, he needed to give them nothing.

Who to turn to?

Still he pondered that question as he became tangible and reached for the pendant.

---

"You have done well, Skulker," an Observant noted.

"My pleasure," the hunter bowed.

The twins and the spectre were now floating before the Observant High Council. In the room of hearings they were, thousands of seer ghosts around them. The six relics of Pariah rested on the floor, by Skulker's feet. From the ceiling lowered several orbs, the faces of the Highest, the six leaders of the Observants, within them. Slowly they dropped until they had reached the desired level.

"Observants of horology," the Speaker boomed, "you have done well. And your request for the reward for your friend Skulker shall be granted. Thanks to you, the world is saved from _Tá eagla orm_!" At that, cheers and huzzahs erupted from the crowd. All the while the twins basked in the glow, radiating with pride. And why should they not? At last they were vindicated over Clockwork and his beliefs in "choice." And they had prevented the greatest of all crises.

The Speaker raised his hands, calling for silence. The noise faded, but the feelings did not. And they distracted from what Skulker was saying.

"Yes…about that…" the hunter hit a button on his wrist.

A blast of violet flame tore through the walls, immediately scorching all in its path. That which was not incinerated was soon cleared away by the great black form that pushed its way within the hall. That form, a terrible dragon, let loose more fire and began to snap bite away at the now panic-stricken crowds. Over the beast's head flew the flaming Fright Knight, who began to swipe away at fleeing members of the council with his Soul Shredder. The twins looked on, aghast, as ten green ropes of energy slithered inside, grabbing up those that moved and throwing them out into The Ghost Zone. Controlling those ropes was Clockwork's responsibility – the future self of Danny Phantom.

And up from the floor, in front of the twins, rose the devil-haired spectre, Vlad Plasmius.

"So sorry," the nosferatu sneered and bowed. "But I have need of those relics too, and it seems that loyalty has overruled compensation." As if to drive the point home, Skulker placed a hand on Plasmius's shoulder.

The quivering twins had scarcely begun to back away when they felt spectral ropes sliding around their waists. They prepared for inevitable doom when the Knight severed the ropes. This brought Phantom flying down, steaming. The pair glared at each other, each ready to strike the other. Plasmius moved between the two, facing the future spectre.

"We have need of these two," he purred. "Why else did I have us wait all this time?"

The seers turned to one another, the dawn reaching them together as the mayhem continued about them.

How could they not have foreseen this?

---

_From within a bed, the lord shall send_

_His minions to bring about the End_

_Of Peace for One who once beat Him Past_

_And though that Soul shall move fast_

_Tragic Pasts of Mentors 'Round_

_Shall Bring Good's Knees to the Ground._


	14. Awakening

Torchlight flooded the main hall of Pariah's Keep. To further illuminate the hall, every last candle and piece of wood had been taken from the walls and catacombs of the castle and brought into the room, and burning oils, timber, and scented wax released their fragrances and odours throughout the enclosure in a sickeningly sweet blend. The sheer mass of fire was enough to cause a slight sweat. Plasmius could indeed feel perspiration building on his forehead. The fact that he had been subjugated to wear a heavy purple cloak over his usual garb did not help matters any. But he could endure it for the few minutes the cape and candles would be around him. He would soon have his rewards for his servitude. And the spectacle emerging before him was enough to hold his interest.

The sources of flame had been arranged in a septegram. Resting in the centre of this star was the gleaming golden throne. In its seat lay the chest, and set atop it, the balance. In the left dish of the balance, there was the pendant. Plasmius stood to the left of the throne, a good distance away. Across from him was the Fright Knight. In front was Skulker, the bow in his hand with the sceptre in place of an arrow, and behind the throne stood Phantom and Aragon. They too wore cloaks. The Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep was outside the star, Aragon and Phantom on either side of it. The prince seemed to be in a trance as he quietly recited verses in a macabre tongue:

_Go hifreann leat!_

_Tá eagla orm._

_Go mbeire an diabhal leis thú!_

_Tá eagla orm._

_D'anam don diabhal! _

_Tá eagla orm._

_Go stróice an Cat Mara do chuid airgid caim!_

Tá eagla orm.

During all this, Skulker kept the bow and sceptre lowered; he watched the Knight and waited.

The prince's chanting began to rise in volume. From his cloak the Knight drew his sword and began to tap the blade on the ground, providing a drum for the ceremonial events. Skulker now lifted the bow and began to bend it. He readied the sceptre as if it were an arrow, aiming for the central bar of the balance. And as all this went on around him, Plasmius felt the sweat of his brow running down his face and the hairs of his neck standing like a cat's. He could remember now why he loathed the sensation of inferiority.

He watched, spellbound, as the eyes of the hunter narrowed. Skulker slowly drew the string and sceptre back. He angled the bow just slightly to the left.

Aragon ceased his chanting.

The Knight stilled his blade.

Skulker let his hand off the string of the bow.

The weapon vanished in an instant. The sceptre remained, however, and was off like a shot. It struck the balance dead centre, and seemed to bore inside it. The weight immediately balanced at this as the pendant dissolved within the central bar. Out from the dishes of the balance, there began to pour a golden elixir. This ambrosia rolled down the chest and the throne and collected in puddles on the floor. The Knight stepped forward, drawing out a silver chalice. In it, he caught some of the potion as it rolled out.

"The key," Aragon requested solemnly.

Plasmius nodded. Still eyeing the sight before him, he fumbled in his robes until he found the Skeleton Key, and he walked it over to the prince – never taking his eyes off the balance. He felt the key leave his grip. Finally he pulled himself away and watched as Aragon turned the key and opened the lid.

The half-ghost backed away as the figure emerged. He had forgotten what a presence Pariah was.

The Ghost King looked worn. His posture was bent slightly, and he held his head with one hand. A slight moan escaped his lips. But still he towered over the rest in the room, and slight echoes sounded at each of his footsteps. Plasmius could see the effects the revived figure had; even Phantom looked unsettled.

"The crown," he hissed, reaching out with his free hand. Plasmius, hands shaking slightly, drew that from his cloak and set it in the tyrant's palm. As Pariah placed the flaming piece upon his head, he let out a roar and suddenly straightened, stretching out with his limbs.

"Ah," he sighed. "And now, my loyal servant," he held out his hand again, "the drink."

The Knight slowly moved towards his lord, holding out the chalice in front of him. With a swipe the despot had it, and he thrust the liquid down his gullet. Plasmius had thought the drink must carry a pleasant taste, but Pariah soon grabbed at his own throat, wheezing and gasping. Back he stepped, toppling the great tomb that once encased him and dropping the chalice, though none of the liquid spilled. Still grunting, he fell to his knees, with a hold on his throat still. His free hand came down upon Phantom's shoulder, nearly knocking the shadow over. His one eye was clenched shut as if from pain.

Then, so quick that Plasmius couldn't follow, the eye opened, and Pariah's head rose.

His whole body rose as a serpent rising from the ocean. His head lurched back, and with a roar, Pariah let red fire shoot from his eye in two streams. In an instant two holes clear out to the Ghost Zone had appeared, but the various levels of the Keep had been melted, not burned, away. Pariah's ring lit up, and the Crown of Fire's blaze grew stronger and red-hot rather than its typical green. A most loathsome and terrible grin as Plasmius had never seen appeared on the sage's lips.

"Thank you, my prince," he sighed, ecstasy in his voice. "I did so need that."

Aragon bowed low to the ground, and Plasmius and the Knight followed suit – though not before sharing a look. Plasmius indicated for Skulker to join them, and the hunter did. The nosferatu could see from the corner of his eye that Phantom only kneeled.

_Poor fool_. Plasmius grinned at the thought. Soon he would have his compensation…and that abomination would likely cease to exist.

"Vladimir Plasmius," Pariah barked, calling the half-ghost's attention back to the sovereign. "Rise."

Plasmius did so, ready.

"You have served me well," Pariah began, his back towards Plasmius. "In the past, you have been a nuisance to me. But we struck a deal when this affair began, and you have held your end of the bargain. Loyalty such as yours deserves just reward."

Plasmius felt his teeth quivering. _On with it, man!_ He wanted to think – not say, but think – but he fought to repress it. He would not tempt Pariah's full powers – not today.

The Ghost King slowly turned around. He gazed down upon Plasmius with a cold stare. A mace materialised in his hand, and he struck out with the weapon. In an instant, Plasmius was arched over the back of the throne, a dazed gleam in his eye and enraged terror in his grimace.

"W-What is this…?" he moaned as he struggled to right himself.

"I warned that I could read your thoughts within my tomb," Pariah belted. "You are a clever liar, Plasmius; but you cannot fool the Ghost King."

"F-fool the Ghost King?" the half-ghost stammered, preparing his best look of obedience. "Now, h-how could I possibly –"

"_Enough_!" the tyrant roared. "I am Pariah, my full power restored to me! I do not forget those who dare oppose me! You have been a burden, and are!"

"Sire – " began the Fright Knight.

"_Silence_! I know your role in his plots, servant. All in this room have plotted against me, save for Aragon. If I did not find some worth in you and the child, you would suffer the same fate soon to befall Vladimir and his comrade!"

At that, a flash of metal caught Plasmius's eye. A blaster had risen from Skulker's wrist, and smoke soon rose from the ground just near Pariah's feet as the blast landed. As the hunter extended his glowing blades and made for Aragon, Plasmius darted for the Knight, seizing the Soul Shredder. _This was not his end!_

"Noble!" cried Pariah. "But futile! Prince!"

From the mouth of Aragon flew violet flame, and a formless metal mass came skidding to the ground before him. Pariah's mace struck out again, and back flew Plasmius. Farther and farther he travelled, until crashing hard into the far north wall, just beside a stained glass window. He had lost the Soul Shredder.

Plasmius could sense he was losing consciousness. His vision had faded, and his nerves had deadened, which at least lessened the pain. Yet he could still ponder in shamed melancholy. How could he have given away so much? He wanted it – oh, how he wanted it! – but had he been so careless with his thoughts?

_So…_he mused, _this is the end…_he saw Pariah grin at that. The tyrant soon had his one eye blazing. Red poured from it straight at the half-ghost. The force of all the fires of Hell struck at him.

Pariah and all his minion watched as the wall and window crumbled, letting the half ghost fall back into the nether of the Ghost Zone.

None noticed that the still-filled goblet had vanished with him.


	15. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hello, all.

It's been some time since I've done anything with my account, and even longer since I've worked on this particular story. My personal life has been both busy and incredibly rewarding over the past two years, and as I prepare original work for publication, fanfiction has seldom, if ever, been on my mind.

Recently, however, a wave of nostalgia moved me to look over material I had produced during my time on _Danny Phantom_ forums and websites. I haven't looked at this work in some time, and doing so brought back some happy memories from when I was involved in Internet fandoms and worked on the DPOF. But with these memories came the realisation of how much things have changed for me. I haven't watched an episode of _Danny Phantom_ in a very long time, and were I to try writing for it again, I doubt I'd be able to do it justice. That, and the severe length of time that's passed since I last picked up this particular story has left me without much of an idea as to where I was going with it. My notes on its future have disappeared, so even if I wanted to continue Master and Apprentice, the sad fact is that I am unable to.

I enjoyed being an Internet fan of DP and fanfiction taught me a lot about writing, but I'm just not at that place anymore. My account and stories will stay on this site, including this unfinished one, but for anybody still expecting an update, I'm afraid it won't happen.

- wafische89


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